


I like me better (when I'm with you)

by I_write_things_sometimes



Series: Together [1]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Anxiety, Avengers Family, Avengers Movie Night, Avengers Tower, Blood and Injury, Domestic Avengers, First Kiss, Friends to Lovers, Getting Together, Happy Ending, M/M, Major Character Injury, Panic Attacks, Past Pepper Potts/Tony Stark, Post-Iron Man 3, Post-Serum Steve Rogers, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pre-Thor: The Dark World, Serious Injuries, Steve Rogers & Tony Stark Friendship, Steve Rogers Needs a Hug, Steve Rogers and the 21st Century, Steve Rogers is a tactical genius, Team Dynamics, Team as Family, The Avengers (2012) Compliant, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Needs a Hug, Tony will fight anyone who says otherwise, thank you very much
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-07-30
Updated: 2019-06-11
Packaged: 2019-06-18 12:13:52
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 20
Words: 79,653
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15485511
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/I_write_things_sometimes/pseuds/I_write_things_sometimes
Summary: If you ask either of them how they got together, they'd go back to an unremarkable night filled with expensive food, rich donors, and lots of schmoozing. And, of course, the anxiety attack that started it all."Not recognizing someone was strange enough, but the longer the two men spoke with — or, more accurately at — Tony, the more convinced Steve was that the conversation was unwanted, at least on Tony’s part.The first clue was that Tony was actively leaning away from the men he was talking to. Steve had learned firsthand that Tony was an incredibly tactile person. When he wanted to talk to you, Tony engaged completely; he’d sling his arm around your shoulders, squeeze your arm, or drag you around as he talked, walked and usually did at least two other things. Even when he argued, Tony was often immediate and in his opponent's space; Steve knew that from experience.Right now? Tony was scanning the outskirts of the room rather than making eye contact with the men near him. If Steve had to guess, Tony was looking for the nearest exit."Or, the way Steve Rogers and Tony Stark became friends and then more.





	1. A Situation to Address

Steve couldn’t understand why he seemed to be the only person that saw it. Granted, Tony was good at hiding it, but if you paid even a little attention it became obvious that Tony wasn’t doing well tonight.

Steve might also have the benefit of being the only person who wasn’t constantly occupied with schmoozing elite donors at this event, which gave him more than enough time to track the movements of his teammates. If he spent a little more time watching Tony than everyone else? Well, Steve didn’t see why that was anyone else’s business.

At the moment, Steve’s analysis of Tony’s body language told him trouble was brewing. He didn’t have any first-hand knowledge of Tony to convince himself he was right without beyond all doubts, but he had a hunch.

Tony was speaking to two men. One of whom Steve recognized as an army general who made it a point to seek Tony out at every event they both attended. As a general, held himself with the rigid discipline of a career military man; even if Steve didn’t recognize him, it would have been easy to tell he was in the service.

His counterpart, on the other hand, Steve did not recognize. That in itself was odd. Steve made it a point to catalog as many faces and names as possible at these events. He’d been to three of these fundraisers since the Battle of New York, and he recognized most of the guests in some respect by now. Especially those who frequently spoke to Tony because, well. He had his reasons.

Not recognizing someone was strange enough, but the longer the two men spoke with — or, more accurately _at_ — Tony, the more convinced Steve was that the conversation was unwanted, at least on Tony’s part.

The first clue was that Tony was actively leaning away from the men he was talking to. Steve had learned firsthand that Tony was an incredibly tactile person. When he _wanted_ to talk to you, Tony engaged completely; he’d sling his arm around your shoulders, squeeze your arm, or drag you around as he talked, walked, and usually did at least two other things.

Even when he _argued_ , Tony was often immediate and in his opponent's space. Steve knew that from experience, too.

Right now? Tony was scanning the outskirts of the room rather than making eye contact with the men near him. If Steve had to guess, Tony was looking for the nearest exit. That was cause enough for concern.

Out of all the Avengers, Tony was the most comfortable in these social settings. If he was looking for an exit, that meant things were bad.

More than that, though, Tony’s jaw was clenched tighter than could be considered healthy or normal. He had one hand wrapped around an almost empty glass, but the other was clenched in a fist.

As Steve watched, Tony held up his glass and made a motion toward the bar, clearly indicating he wanted to slip away. Unfortunately, the men didn’t seem to get the message that he wanted them to let him go _alone_  and trailed behind him.

Steve was hesitant to step in. Not only would it expose the fact that Steve had been watching Tony, closely, but it would also expose Tony in a way he might not want.

Steve watched Tony walk without his usual confidence and swagger toward the bar and saw the way Tony was breathing: jagged and disjointed. When he reached the bar, Tony squeezed the countertop as if it could ground him.

Even when Steve could only see the back of Tony’s head, he knew Tony wasn’t okay. Steve was three steps closer to Tony before he even realized he was moving. He wasn’t entirely certain what his plan was when he reached the group standing next to the bar.

Tony turned away from the bar to face the other two men again. He had a fake smile plastered on his face. He still hadn’t noticed Steve was on his way over.

Steve saw the exact moment when Tony spotted him. His eyes widened and his smile became somehow more panicked, the tension stretching up from the tightness of his jaw to the lines around eyes. Steve wasn’t sure what to make of that, but he wasn’t about to change course.

When Steve finally reached the group, Tony’s mouth snapped shut. Apparently whatever he’d been about to say wasn’t going to work anymore. Steve tried not to think about that much. Instead, he addressed the two gentlemen, aiming for a tone he hoped was professional and slightly apologetic.

“Excuse me, gentlemen,” Steve said, tipping his head at them both. Then he focused his gaze on Tony. “Sorry to interrupt, but I need to speak with Mr. Stark.”

Steve knew how to make people listen and how to convey a sense of urgency, even when there might not be one. It was one of the few things that came with his assumed rank that he’d adjusted to quickly. Tony’s eyes held questions Steve didn’t have answers to. He seemed more… not relaxed, but focused.

“Is everything alright?”

“Yes, fine,” Steve replied evenly. “There’s just a situation we need to address. If you can step away?”

Steve really hoped Tony saw what he was doing here. He was trying to give him an out. If only Tony would _take it_.

“Sure,” Tony looked down at the floor for a second and took a deep breath. When he lifted his head the fake smile was back. Tony made half-hearted apologies — the kind you make when leaving a conversation you never wanted to be a part of in the first place — and stepped away from them to follow Steve.

Steve headed directly to the nearest exit, apologizing as he slipped between groups of people chattering away with Tony close behind him. The fact that Tony wasn’t saying anything suggested to Steve that he still wasn't as fine as he’d been trying to convince everyone.

Steve opened a door which he knew led to an elevator that was rarely used by anyone in the tower. He may have known that because he was frequently looking for ways to leave places in the tower without being noticed; who could blame him. At any rate, Steve was happy for his knowledge of the place now.

He stepped into the elevator with Tony on his heels, still eerily silent. Steve thought maybe he was trying to control his breathing. That would explain the prolonged silence, at least.

Steve thought over the floors in the tower he knew would be empty, especially at this time of night. He settled for the floor above. While the 64th floor had one of the Stark Tower’s many, many entertainment spaces, the 65th floor was mostly conference rooms. Apparently, it was important to Tony that his employees never have to fight for conference space. Steve had been there many times and he’d almost never seen anyone, so he didn’t think Stark Industries’ employees were wanting for more meeting rooms.

“Is this a SHIELD thing, Rogers?” Tony asked as he exited the elevator, still walking more robotically than Steve was used to. “Because I still don’t trust—”

Steve shook his head and guided Tony into a conference room.

“No, it’s not a SHIELD thing,” Steve said quietly. The lights in the conference room kicked on when they entered because of the motion and Steve turned to face Tony.

“Then, what?” Tony snapped.

“It seemed like you needed a minute,” Steve said, hoping that was explanation enough.

Tony stared at him, wide-eyed. He blinked. Opened his mouth as if he were going to speak and then closed it again. Before Steve could say anything, Tony brought a hand up to cover his eyes.

“I can’t—” Tony started, sucking in a breath without finishing the sentence. He dropped his hand and stared out the window of the room.

“Why don’t we just stay here for a minute?” Steve suggested, his voice quiet but firm. He stepped closer to Tony, reaching a hand out slowly, before hesitating. He didn’t want to startle Tony with an unwanted touch. “Is it okay if I touch your shoulder?”

Even though Tony nodded, he still flinched a little when Steve touched him, which made Steve wonder if this was the right course of action. He could be making everything worse.

Steve wasn’t entirely sure Tony was even aware that he was still in a room with Steve at this point. Tony’s eyes were distant, and not the way he would get when he was thinking too hard about something. This was obviously something else, and Steve thought he had an idea of what was happening.

Rather than ask the stupid questions he’d been asked — Steve’s first panic attack had been memorable enough that he couldn’t forget the grocery clerk standing beside him saying “Sir, are you okay?” until he’d bolted from the store, groceries abandoned, struggling to breathe in a way he hadn’t experienced since being injected with the serum — Steve opted for trying to offer comfort instead.

Tony stumbled further into the room, jerkily. His limbs didn’t seem to be cooperating.

“What can I do, Tony?” Steve asked, hand squeezing Tony’s shoulder.

Tony sucked in another jagged breath, reached a hand up to his chest.

Steve reached around Tony with the hand that wasn't on his shoulder to swivel one of the rolling chairs so that Tony could sit — or fall — into it. He rolled it closer; Tony didn’t seem to notice.

“Why don’t you sit?” Steve suggested, sliding his hand from Tony’s shoulder to his upper arm.

Tony squeezed his eyes shut while taking in another shaky breath. His hand was still clutching at his chest helplessly. Steve didn't think it was the arc reactor, but for a second his heart skipped a beat.

“JARVIS, can you scan Tony and the arc reactor for physical problems?”

“There are no physical ailments, and the arc reactor seems to be functioning without complication,” JARVIS reported.  
When his AI confirmed he was physically fine, Tony’s knees buckled.

Steve guided him back into the chair as much as he could, but from the angle he was at Tony more or less fell into the chair.

Steve didn’t need more confirmation than that. This was a panic attack.

Steve rolled a second chair around so he could sit in front of Tony, their knees almost touching. Moving slowly, Steve settled his right hand on Tony’s shoulder just to maintain contact on the off chance it helped.

Steve reflected on his past attacks, trying to remember what helped pull him out. Once, he had been fine after a few deep breaths of cool, fresh air. Steve glanced at the windows. It seemed unlikely that windows sixty-five stories up would open, but it was worth a try.

“JARVIS, any chance these windows open?” Steve asked, keeping his voice low and calm.

Tony was still breathing irregularly, holding a hand to his chest, and staring at the ground.

“Unfortunately not,” JARVIS said.

“Alright, then just turn the temperature way down in here,” Steve ordered. He remembered feeling like he was about to combust during his panic attacks.

Some distant machine whirred to life and Steve was satisfied the AI had done as he’d asked.

Steve wracked his brain, trying to come up with something else that might help with this. The last time he'd gone for a run, but he’d been in his room and able to pull on sweatpants and a t-shirt. Tony was in a three-piece suit. Besides, Steve wasn’t sure running would help Tony the same way it helped him.

Steve hadn’t ever had another person there with him, but he’d thought once or twice, absently, that it might be nice to have someone there to ground him.

Steve had a hand on Tony’s shoulder, but the touch didn’t seem to be registering for him anymore. Maybe…

“I’m just going to start talking, okay?” Steve said, softly. “I’m not positive, but it may help if you can find a way to focus on my voice.”

The only trouble was, Steve had absolutely no idea how to fill the silence. He almost never had long-winded conversations with _anyone_ that weren’t mission-related, let alone with Tony. When he and Tony did talk for any length of time it usually involved the Avengers in some way, shape or form but Steve suspected that was the last thing Tony needed to be thinking about right now. That left him with limited options.

“You know what I think is strange?” Steve asked, not expecting an answer and not fully certain where he was about to go with this tangent. “Everyone seems to think I’m having such a difficult time adjusting to the 21st century, but I don’t think it’s because they don’t think I can handle the technology or lack of a world war or new foods or any of that. The way people keep acting around me? It’s like they honestly think the _social progress_ is going to be what I get hung up on.”

Steve took a deep breath, not even remotely certain why he’d decided to start on this subject. He and Tony didn’t have conversations like this. But maybe that was the reason. Tony was still on the verge of hyperventilating, and Steve didn’t really think he was listening much at all.

“Like the other day,” Steve said, deciding to go all in. “One of the SHIELD agents I was working with absently mentioned his sisters’ wife and then looked at me like he’d just said the most scandalous thing in the world. Then he dropped the subject and tried to pretend it never happened.

“I don’t get it. I’ve never had anyone assume I have a problem with homosexuality before now. And it’s more than that. It’s like… people have this idea of me that’s the exact _opposite_ of who I actually am,” Steve sighed.

Tony still didn’t seem to be listening, but his breathing had evened out some so Steve was hopeful this was either helping or he was coming down off the attack on his own.

“Then there was the woman from the department of education who called me sometime between being unthawed and the Battle of New York — I don’t even have any idea how she got my number, which was more than a little unsettling. But anyway. She asked if I’d be interesting in filming a number of video public service announcements that would be played in public high schools? Not only did she seem _shocked_ when I even asked what they’d be about, she seemed absolutely _floored_ when I told her that, no, I would definitively not be trumpeting her cause.” Steve huffed indignantly at the memory.

By this point, Tony’s hand had slipped from his chest but was still clenched in a fist on his thigh. Steve wasn’t entirely sure when, but at some point, while he was speaking he’d started smoothing a hand from Tony’s neck to his upper arm in slow, repetitive motions. He decided not to question the instinct.

“I mean for god’s sakes she wanted me to do a PSA about not getting into detention,” Steve rolled his eyes, though he was fully aware Tony wasn’t able to appreciate that at the moment. “Me? Advising kids against getting detentions? I had to, in no uncertain terms, inform her that I’d spent most of primary and secondary school in _detention_. Apparently, that was news to her because she seemed scandalized. Granted, that may be because I also strongly condemned her factually inaccurate notion that abstinence-only sex education actually works so I can’t say a scandalized reaction wasn’t necessarily in order. but—”

“You told the _Secretary of Education_ that abstinence-only sex-ed was a waste of time?” Tony asked, out of nowhere. His shoulders were shaking with laughter under Steve’s hand.

Steve wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that change, but he was going to go with it. Laughing was better than a panic attack, surely.

“Um,” Steve hesitated. “I’m not entirely certain she was the Secretary of Education?”

“If she was calling you, I assure you she was.”

“Well, then, yes. I did.”

Tony huffed a laugh.

Steve waited for a moment, hand stilling on Tony’s shoulder. He didn't want to pressure Tony to say more than he was ready for.

“I, uh,” Tony started, his voice sounding strained. He ran a hand through his hair. “Sorry. For spazzing out.”

“You have nothing to apologize for,” Steve said. He was being honest; Steve had been there and, much like his asthma attacks when he was young, there was simply no helping a panic attack when it came on.

“Right,” Tony leaned back in the chair and scrubbed his hands on his pants. Steve pulled away from Tony and leaned back in his own chair, trying to give him the space it seemed like he wanted.

“So, um, what did you need me for?”

Steve stared at him, brow furrowed.

“You know,” Tony made circular ‘elaborate’ motion with his hand. “There was a… Situation to address?”

“Tony, I made that up.” Opting for blunt honesty seemed like the best course of action.

“What?”

“I apologize if I overstepped,” Steve said carefully. “But I thought you needed to make an exit and take a breath. So I… engineered a way to make that happen.”

“Oh.”

“Is there anything else I can do, or…?”

Tony huffed an unconvincing laugh.

“You’ve already done more than anyone else ever has,” he said, sighing. “I don’t need to ask anything else of you.”

“Tony,” Steve said softly. “I’ve been where you are. If I can help, just tell me how.”

Tony stared at Steve silently for a long minute, as if trying to decide what to do with him.

“Just, um, keep doing what you were doing.”

“Okay,” Steve took a deep breath trying to come up with something to say. He’d also been touching Tony before, but he didn’t think that was what Tony was asking for now. He steadied himself — he’d decided to rant about waste because _did everyone in this century have to have so much of everything that they threw nearly half of it all away_ and he just prayed Tony didn’t take offense.

Before he even got a word out, though, Tony reached forward and tugged on the sleeve of Steve’s coat, pulling his arm closer. Wordlessly, Steve resumed the slow, rhythmic way he’d been rubbing Tony’s shoulder before. Tony closed his eyes and relaxed further into his seat. At that, Steve started to speak.

He didn’t stop until Tony indicated he should. Steve had plenty of things to say, and usually, he didn’t have anyone to say them to. Sure, he was being a little less… filtered with Tony than he might normally be, but, well. Steve was sure Tony felt vulnerable having a panic attack in Steve’s presence, so Steve might as well return the favor with a show of vulnerability on his side. Revealing a bit more of himself might build trust, assuming Tony was actually hearing him. And if he wasn’t, well, then it didn’t really matter, did it?

Steve was still complaining about people’s general lack of respect in the twenty-first century when Tony cut in.

“I mean, I know I’ve missed a lot, but I’ve been catching up and I’ve yet to find the point in history when it became acceptable to ask people deeply _personal_ questions in such public settings—”

“You didn’t,” Tony sighed. “People just don’t remember that celebrities are real people, too.”

“It’s gotten worse,” Steve said, without pausing. “I mean there was a _bit_ of that in my day. But there were some lines you didn't cross.”

“Are you sure about that?” Tony said, grinning wryly. “Or were people less inclined to ask you personal questions because you were _Captain America?_ ”

Steve shrugged. He didn’t really have any idea; his only experience with fame had been post-serum and he’d never paid much attention at all to tabloids as he grew up. Maybe it was always this insufferable.

“We should probably go back out there,” Tony said, graciously saving Steve from having to answer.

Steve thought about it. Yes, maybe the best thing to do would be to go back out there, but… Tony’s hands were just beginning to still and his breathing was still deliberate and measured.

“Why don’t we just blow it off?” Steve suggested instead, hoping that Tony would actually consider it if he offered up the alternative.

Tony blinked at him. When he didn’t immediately say no Steve seized on the idea.

“I mean, we could go back up there. But… I really don’t want to. It’s exhausting being surrounded by strangers. I really just want to set up on the couch and watch some Parks and Rec or something,” Steve wasn’t entirely sure how he’d gotten started on the show, but he was fairly certain it’d stemmed from a comment Tony made once. “If you want to join me.”

“I uh.”

“You don’t have to,” Steve assured, quickly. “You’re more than welcome to go back out there. Or, you know, wherever. It’s your tower, of course, you can—”

“Steve,” Tony said, putting his hand on Steve’s arm. He was smiling, but it didn’t reach his eyes. “You’re right. Going back out there right now sounds worse than fighting a second wave of Chitauri. Let’s go.”

Steve let out a sigh of relief and stood up, leading the way out of the conference room. Wordlessly they headed for the communal living room on the 100th floor. It was one of Steve’s favorite places in the tower, second only to the balconies and rooftop, and just before Tony’s workshop. His preferences might directly correlate with places where Steve sees Tony actually _relax_ but he wasn’t about to read into it too much.

When they reached the floor Tony made a beeline for the couch and Steve followed diligently. Tony flopped down into the very center of the couch running parallel to the TV, leaving Steve with two options. One, settle in beside Tony knowing that because of his size there’d be no way to avoid crowding the other man or, two, take the couch perpendicular to the TV. He hesitated for just the slightest of seconds and Tony sighed, impatient.

“Are you sitting so we can do this?” Tony said, his voice lacking any and all irritation. He just sounded… tired. Tony blinked up at Steve — who was thinking way too hard about this for _no real reason_ — and patted the couch beside him. Steve all but collapsed into the cushions on Tony’s right.

As Tony called up the next episode of Parks and Rec Steve tried to find a comfortable position. It seemed impossible without touching Tony in about four different places.

“I’m glad you’re in season three,” Tony murmured. “It’s when things really get great.” He turned up the volume ever so slightly and dropped the remote on the cushion to his left before promptly melting into Steve’s side.

Steve surprised himself by not even hesitating. He just maneuvered so his left arm was free to wrap around Tony’s shoulders. Tony sighed and then chuckled when Leslie tried to blame her very obvious flu on _allergies_.

“I bet that’s something you would do,” Tony said, sounding smug.

“As if you’re any better,” Steve shot back, decidedly not bringing up the time when he’d try to blame his fairly evident pneumonia on allergies. That was a little to close to home. He elbowed Tony in the side. “Workaholic.”

He didn’t have to be able to see Tony’s face to know he was rolling his eyes. 

* * *

The other Avengers came up three hours later and were greeted with an immediate warning from JARVIS. “Master Stark and Captain Rogers are asleep on the couch. Please do not disturb them.”

Natasha sprung into action. She shooed the others down the hall and into their respective rooms. Clint put up a half-hearted fight but quickly caught on that Natasha was not to be trifled with tonight (or ever, really, but there was a fierce edge of protectiveness in her eyes that even Clint wouldn’t test). She was relieved when she was finally left in the common room alone.

She knew Tony never got enough sleep, and she suspected that although he hid it better, Steve didn’t either. It may be sentimental and stupid, but she couldn’t resist padding into the living room on silent feet.

Her lips twitched fighting the ghost of a smile at the sight of the sleeping men. Steve had an arm wrapped tightly around Tony’s shoulders with his cheek pressed against Tony’s dark and mussed hair. Tony had one arm thrown over Steve’s waist and his head rose and fell in time with Steve’s even breaths.

They were both still wearing their suits from the benefit, which left Natasha with more questions than answers about what happened when the pair mysteriously disappeared earlier in the evening, but they looked about as comfortable as they could be, given the circumstances.

She contemplated dragging a blanket over them but thought better of it. Steve was a walking furnace when you were standing within a foot of him, let alone when you were pressed against him the way Tony was. Besides, they seemed perfectly content as they were.

It’s possible Natasha took a picture of the pair peacefully sleeping before she slipped off to bed. It’s also possible she didn’t. JARVIS was the only one who could testify either way, and even Tony’s AI knew better than to cross Natasha. 

* * *

If Steve was surprised that Tony retained the information Steve had been prattling on about during Tony’s panic attack, he figured he shouldn’t be. The man was a literal genius; it made sense that he was still gathering intel even when he was in the midst of a panic attack.

He wasn’t _positive_ that Tony’s slight change in behavior was because of what Steve had said to him, but he suspected.

First, it was the fact that he’d set up a Tower Compost Program, to cut down on food waste. Granted, Steve doubted Tony’d had a hand in that himself. But he was _certain_ it was Tony who’d given the order. That was… genuinely touching.

Next, it was the press conferences. The Avengers were public figures who interacted with the press more than Steve would have liked. But it had been more manageable as of late. Someone seemed to have taken it upon themselves to remind the sometimes overeager reporters — Steve didn’t want to discredit the press, journalism was important — that Captain America and the others were actually _still people_. Or maybe they’d just started implementing stricter rules about who was welcome at their press events. Either way, Steve guessed that was Tony, too.

The last part, well, Steve could only chalk that up to the anxiety incident. Because literally _no one_ since he’d woken up had even attempted to test the waters on Steve’s views about homosexuality or same-sex relationships. And, yet, two weeks after the charity event, during Team Movie Night, Tony just brought it up without hesitation.

They were watching A New Hope because Steve still hadn’t seen Star Wars and Tony said that was a tragedy of epic proportions. The movie was coming to a close. The Death Star had been destroyed and, all in all, Steve had genuinely enjoyed the movie. They’d made it to the medal ceremony, and as Han winked at Leia with his roguish, smuggler charm Tony chuckled quietly.

“I _really_ don’t understand how there’d be any contest between Luke and Han,” Steve said, without thinking. He figured that wasn’t a controversial stance; his teammates probably assumed he was remarking on the plot of the movie, or something much more artistic than what he was actually talking about.

Tony laughed outright at his comment.

“Don’t ask me,” he chuckled. “I had a crush on Han Solo before I even knew what a crush was.” Tony mentioned earlier that he’d gone to see this movie for his seventh birthday; JARVIS had taken him four days after it opened. Tony had _loved_ it.

Steve smiled; he didn’t think it was surprising at all that Tony had been a Han Solo fan from the start. Tony reminded him of Han, at least in some ways.

“I have a crush on him _now_ ,” Steve said, stretching absently. It occurred to him, after the comment was out, that he and Tony were not, in fact, alone. Not that he really cared. Much.

Tony took it in stride, which Steve appreciated.

“You, my friend, have excellent taste,” Tony patted his knee and hopped up from the couch. “Who wants more popcorn before the next one?”

Steve turned to face his teammates on the other couch. Clint and Natasha were both staring at Steve with strange expressions on their faces. Bruce, on the other hand, got up to help Tony with the popcorn after offering Steve a friendly smile. Steve wasn’t sure anything really surprised Bruce anymore.

“Is _that_ why you keep turning down my offers to set you up with women?” Natasha asked, finally. Her tone wasn’t accusatory, just curious. Maybe a little amused.

“No,” Steve said, smiling. “I am attracted to women. Just not… exclusively.”

“You could have told me,” she said, now looking at him as if she were trying to work out a complicated puzzle.

“I just did, didn’t I?”

“I mean before. When I was trying to set you up.”

“It wouldn’t have made a difference, Nat,” Steve shrugged, smiling. “I don't need to be set up with anyone right now. I like my life the way it is.”

Nat narrowed her eyes at him before nodding.

“Fine.” And Steve figured that was about as much as of a reaction as he was going to get out of Natasha.

Clint finished blinking at Steve in surprise the minute Bruce returned with a bowl of popcorn for him and, just like that, Steve felt just a little bit more comfortable around his teammates.

When Tony returned and sat back down on the couch he bumped Steve’s shoulder with his own and offered to share his bowl of popcorn. Steve read it as Tony-speak for support and smiled as he took a handful of popcorn for himself and settled in to continue watching the Star Wars trilogy. He hoped Tony could see his gratitude and general contentment. He thought he could, anyway.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title comes from the song of the same name by Lauv. I can't explain why, but ever since the first time I heard it, it's made me think of Steve and Tony :). Check it out here: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=a7fzkqLozwA.
> 
> I have around 12 more chapters of this written/planned (about 31,000 words), so I should be posting somewhat regularly. If you want to keep reading, subscribe!
> 
> This is my first Steve/Tony fic, and my first fic posted on AO3 ever. With that said, if you have a minute pretty please with cherries on top let me know what you think :)!


	2. Good Friends

Steve hadn’t heard from Tony in over 36 hours which was, well… concerning. Since the night of the charity benefit, Steve had seen Tony almost once a day without fail. Steve wasn’t entirely certain what caused the change, but there was a definite degree of _closeness_ that hadn’t existed before. Steve wasn’t complaining. He hadn’t realized exactly how much he needed a friend until he suddenly had one. Seeing Tony always brightened Steve’s day now, and he really hoped Tony felt the same way about seeing him.

Everything pointed to yes, Steve thought. In the week just after the benefit, Tony invited Steve down to his workshop. At first, it was under the guise of working on new team equipment.

“ _Steve, do you have a minute? I wanted to pick your brain about Nat’s stealth gear.”_

And Steve, who rarely had much of anything on his schedule outside of infrequent SHIELD missions, was happy to help.

_“Yeah, sure. Lead the way.”_

By the time they were working on a model of the machine they thought could contain the Hulk if needed — at Bruce’s request — Steve was bringing sketchbooks down to the shop with him, and drawing examples to discuss with Tony.

The demands of SI couldn’t be postponed for long, though. Tony inevitably got pulled away to engineer various Stark Industries products. At the beginning, Steve would venture into a new part of the city when that happened but, more and more often now, Tony invited him to stay in the lab until the SI business was finished and the Avengers business could be resumed.

By spending even small amounts of time in Tony’s workshop where he was in his element, Steve was slowly learning Tony.

It took no time at all to discover that Tony had to be saved from himself sometimes. He could get so wrapped up in a project that he would refuse to eat or sleep until someone forced him to reset. Steve didn’t mind being that person, and Tony seemed to respond better to him than to JARVIS’ best attempts. Besides, Steve thought Pepper and Rhodey appreciated having someone here to watch out for Tony when they were forced to be away.

It was why Steve kept such a close eye on Tony. And that, of course, was why Steve was so keenly aware of the fact that Tony had been in the workshop for a 36-hour stretch. 

“JARVIS?” Steve asked, figuring the AI would know he wanted a status update on Tony. 

“Master Stark is in his workshop.” JARVIS sounded tired. That was never a good sign in Steve’s experience. “He hasn’t consumed anything other than power bars and coffee in over 24 hours.”

“Dammit Tony,” Steve sighed. “Thanks, JARVIS.”

“My pleasure, Captain Rogers.”

_Except_ , Steve thought with no small amount of concern, _JARVIS doesn’t actually sound pleased. He sounds distressed._

That, in and of itself, would have sent him straight down to check on Tony. The fact that Tony hadn’t eaten real food in more than a day just meant Steve needed to go down with dinner — as an excuse to check in on him. It was almost five; that was an acceptable dinner time when you hadn’t eaten a real meal in a day.

Steve quickly slapped together a roast beef sandwich from leftovers in the fridge. He made it the way Tony liked, toasting it quickly, and grabbed a bottle of water and a glass of fruit juice. He took the stairs two at a time, the echo of JARVIS’ voice in his head. Preparing the meal had taken maybe two minutes, tops, but Steve still felt like he was moving too slowly.

JARVIS just sounded _off_. Steve knew he’d be alerted if Tony were in actual danger, but he still had an uncomfortable warning clawing at the back of his neck saying that something wasn’t right. Steve trusted his instincts. 

If it weren’t for his enhanced hearing, Steve wouldn’t have had a chance at picking up on Tony’s conversation with JARVIS through the reinforced glass doors that separated the stairwell from his workshop. 

Steve could hear the words now that he was on the same level, but they were muffled.

“Shall I alert Captain Rogers now?” 

JARVIS sounded annoyed with Tony — and not in the fond, exaggerated way that everyone in the tower considered normal. 

“Absolutely. Not,” Tony practically growled. His back was to Steve and his right hand was curled around the metal counter he was leaning onto.

“But Sir —”

“Enough!”

Steve knew he was intruding by listening in on the conversation and decided to make his presence known.

He rapped on the glass door twice, announcing himself despite the fact that Tony had given him security clearance to enter the workshop without direct approval more than two weeks ago. 

“I swear to God, JARVIS—” It seemed like Tony was struggling to choke the words out.

“JARVIS didn’t do anything,” Steve said. It was only partially a lie. “I was coming to bring you dinner.”

Tony didn’t say anything. Steve stared at his back as he approached, trying to get a read on what was happening. Physically, Steve couldn’t find outward signs of harm. There was no blood and nothing important seemed broken. 

Steve set the plate down on the nearest horizontal surface and took a few steps closer to Tony. When he was close enough to reach out and touch him, Steve hesitated. 

“I can leave if you want me to, Tony,” Steve said, softly. He didn’t think it was a good idea, but he would do it if Tony asked.

Tony slammed his left hand down onto the metal workbench and the only reason Steve didn’t jump at the deafening clanging that rang through the room was that he’d seen the outburst coming before it happened. He hadn’t expected it to be quite so loud, but on closer examination, it became clear that, for whatever reason, Tony had the left Iron Man gauntlet on his hand. 

Tony did something and the gauntlet whirred, clicked, and broke open, falling into two halves on the counter. Tony clenched his hand into a fist, but not before Steve saw that his hand was shaking.

“I need this to _s-stop happening_ ,” Tony said, angry.

For whatever reason, _that_ was what finally clued Steve in on the fact that Tony was on the verge of another panic attack.

“Tony,” Steve started, voice calm and steady. “I know it’s frustrating, but it’s going to be okay—”

“God, save it.” Tony was struggling to breathe now. 

“No, come on. Tony, you need to sit.”

“I’m fine.”

“You’re _not_ fine.”

“Screw you, Rogers.”

“Do you feel better now?” Steve asked, rolling his eyes at Tony’s biting words. “I’m not going anywhere, okay? Even if you snap at me. I’m here for you. Will you sit down? Please?”

Tony still seemed to be registering his words, which meant that this attack probably wasn’t as bad as the previous one. Tony looked at the couch on the other side of the lab and deflated slightly, as if just the _idea_ of trying to get there were impossible.

“Not over there,” Steve said. He could easily move Tony over to the couch, but he didn’t think it’d be worth the fallout and he didn’t want to make things worse by manhandling Tony. He was fairly certain that would be the exact _opposite_ of helpful. “We’ll move later.” 

Steve grabbed a chair from the other side of the lab — shit didn’t Tony ever _sit_ while he worked? — and brought it over to Tony, who dropped into it the moment Steve’s hand pressed against his shoulder indicating it was okay to do so. Tony let out a jagged breath, and Steve squeezed his shoulder gently.

“Thanks.” 

It was so quiet Steve barely heard it.

“Any time, Tony. Seriously,” Steve wasn’t entirely sure what to say beyond that. Last time, Steve made an educated guess about what triggered Tony’s attack — something the men who had Tony cornered had said or asked about. This time, he was at a loss. As far as he knew, Tony had only been working in the shop all day. “You’re safe right now. You’re in the workshop. It’s just you and me, okay?” 

Tony seemed to be trying to focus on breathing, which Steve thought was a good idea. They stayed like that for a few minutes, Steve nervously hovering, not entirely sure what to do as Tony tried to come down off the adrenaline of the anxiety attack. Steve was still holding Tony’s shoulder as he sat in silence.

Minutes passed, but Steve didn't move.

“Why are you here?” Tony asked finally, when his breathing was more even. 

“I told you. I hadn’t seen you in… a while,” Steve carefully talked around the fact that he knew it’d been _exactly_ 39 hours and 41 minutes since he’d last seen Tony. “I asked JARVIS how you were doing.”

“You’re checking up on me now?” Tony snapped, staring at his shoes. “I’m a wreck and you’ve got team leader duties, right?”

“I asked JARVIS the last time _my_ _friend_ had eaten something other than sugar-filled power bars, and then brought you a sandwich. And I won’t apologize for it.”

Tony didn’t reply. At least not to that comment, outright. 

“So this was purely coincidental?” This time, Tony looked directly at Steve when he asked the question.

“Unfortunately.”

Tony raised an eyebrow.

“I wish you’d have let JARVIS tell me what was happening,” Steve admitted, trying to keep his voice level despite his frustration. “I know he tried to.”

“I can’t keep doing this and dragging other people into it — ”

“I disagree,” Steve cut in sharply. “Contrary to what you might _think,_ you’re _not_ a wreck and I don’t think you need a babysitter. I just know it’s really shitty to go through a panic attack alone. I’d rather you let JARVIS call me.” He paused. Re-thought it. “Or anyone, for that matter. It doesn’t have to be me.”

“You have better things to be doing—”

“I _really_ don’t.” Steve shook his head. “But if it’ll make you feel better I could have JARVIS let you know the next time I’m having a panic attack so that you could see this isn’t something you have to hide _."_

“Wait.” Tony shook his head a little like he was trying to clear it. “What?”

“You heard me right,” Steve smiled. “You’re not the only person in this tower going through this. Hell, you’re not the only person in this _room_ going through this. Why did you think I realized what was happening last time?”

“I don’t know,” Tony’s eyebrows wrinkled in confusion. “I just thought you were freakily observant and up to date on mental health issues from, you know, catching up to the twenty-first century.”

“I mean, that might be the case. But I’m well-versed because I spent a long time reading up on it. And I did that because I’m dealing with, you know, kind of a lot.”

Tony stared at him. The way Tony was looking at him wasn’t bad, per se. It was more… shocked? Except that wasn’t all of it, either. He seemed… impressed? It made absolutely no sense to Steve, but he was sure it made perfect sense to Tony.

“So you’re saying you’ve…?”

“Had panic attacks? Yes.” Steve tried not to let it show that it made him somewhat uncomfortable to say that out loud. This was for Tony’s benefit and he could do it for Tony. “Several. They’re… well, unpleasant is an understatement.”

“Yeah,” Tony huffed slightly. “You could say that.”

Steve let Tony think that over in silence for a minute. He thought he’d said something that indicated he’d had panic attacks before, when Tony was in the middle of his last one, but Tony could be forgiven for not remembering it even if he had.

“Does it help?” Steve asked finally. “Having someone here?”

“You don’t—” Tony squinted at him, and then shook his head abandoning the question. “Yes,” Tony sighed. “ _Yes,_ okay? It helps.”

“Okay.”

“It’s better. Not being trapped in my own head. I don’t know why it helps. It just does.”

“All right. Well, I’m happy to be here when you want me to be.”

“You really mean that.” It didn’t sound like a question, but Steve answered it like one just the same.

“Of course I mean it.”

“What about you?”

“I don’t know what you mean.”

“You shouldn’t have to be alone, either.”

“Um.”

“Come on, Steve,” Tony sighed. “You can’t make an offer like this and not expect me to return the favor.”

“That’s not why I—”

“I know that,” Tony said. “Trust me, I know that. You’re way too genuine to have ulterior motives in this. You’re just trying to be a good friend. So am I.”

Steve stared at him for a second, and then two.

“Fair enough,” he agreed. “I appreciate it. ” It was painfully obvious that neither of them was committing to anything. It was all too abstract.

Tony wasn't buying it, and Steve didn't blame him.

“See?” Tony asked, with a raised eyebrow and a wry smile. “It’s not that simple.”

Steve wasn’t even sure Tony had done it intentionally, but it had the desired effect. Steve had never been able to back down from a challenge; it was going to get him killed someday. He didn’t think today was that day, though.

Before Steve could think twice about the fact that it was, without a doubt, a _terrible idea,_ he was opening his mouth to give JARVIS the order. “JARVIS, next time you detect warning signs of a panic attack will you please alert Tony for me?”

“Of course, Captain Rogers.”

“Thank you.”

There was a beat of silence where Tony did his best to keep the surprise from registering on his face and Steve tried to fight back the immediate regret clawing its way up his spine. He was _fine_.

“I’ll admit, I was not expecting that.” Tony was definitely impressed now. Steve was a little proud of that; he imagined it was difficult to truly impress a genius 

“Well that’s what you get when you offer a challenge to someone who almost never thinks about the consequences of his actions,” Steve fired back, laughing a little at himself.

Tony rolled his eyes, thinking it was best not to point out all the very valid reasons he disagreed with Steve’s point — the man spent far too _much_ time thinking about the consequences of his actions, in Tony’s opinion. However, maybe there was some truth to the idea that Steve wasn't as careful with his choices when the only person they’d impact was himself.

“Same for you, sir?” JARVIS asked. Steve would always be endlessly amused that Tony programmed his AI to _sass him._

Tony was silent for long enough that Steve decided to cut in. 

“Tony, that’s not why I did it. You don’t have to—”

“I know, I know,” Tony waved Steve off, causing Steve to finally drop his hand and move away from Tony. “But yes, alright, _fine_ JARVIS.”

“Tony—”

“If it’ll shut you both up it’ll be worth it,” Tony said, glaring at his computer in a way Steve assumed was meant for JARVIS. Tony stood up from the chair he’d been sitting on. He rubbed his left hand with his right one, which made Steve wonder if he hadn’t actually hurt himself earlier with all the slamming. “Alright, it’s time for me to get out of here. I’ve clearly been here too long.”

Steve wanted to ask if he meant the workshop or the tower, but he figured it wasn’t really any of his business unless Tony wanted to share.

Tony picked up the sandwich Steve had all but forgotten about as he walked by, and Steve couldn’t help but smile as he took a bite out of it without missing a step.

He chewed and swallowed, while Steve trailed him to the stairs. When they reached the main level Steve meant to break away and let Tony have some time to himself, but Tony had other ideas.

“Have you finished Parks and Rec yet?”

“Oh, um, no. I’m in season 5, I think.”

“Do you want to?” Tony asked. Without giving Steve a chance to reply he started talking again. “What time did you say it was?”

“I didn’t. But it’s… 5:20?”

“Oh, perfect.” Tony went straight for the couch. “It’s time to introduce you to binge-watching.”

Steve was still processing the change in events, so he hadn’t quite caught up to Tony. He was frozen at the top of the stairway. 

“Unless you have somewhere else you need to be,” Tony said, backtracking almost as quickly as he’d made the decision that they were going to spend the next several hours together. “I mean—”

“Nope, that sounds perfect,” Steve said, stopping him before he could spin out. “I just think I’m going to make some popcorn. Do you want some?”

“Oh,” Tony relaxed a little. “No. But I’m going to steal yours.”

Steve chuckled. He wasn't sure why Tony felt the need to warn him about that. Tony seemed fundamentally opposed to having his own bowl of popcorn. For whatever reason, he _preferred_ to pilfer the snack from other people’s bowls and, sometimes, hands.

Maybe that was just Tony’s way of saying he should make extra and add it to his bowl to account for Tony’s stealing. As if he weren’t going to do that anyway.

When Steve finally returned with a large bowl of popcorn Tony was in the middle of the couch, same as last time. The minute Steve was sitting Tony had his hand in the popcorn bowl and his side pressed against Steve’s. He already had the show pulled up and ready so that all Steve had to do was tell JARVIS to start it. When Steve did, he and Tony both relaxed slowly and lost themselves in the fictional story for a little while.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so I swear these chapters won't all feature Tony having a panic attack. I really, really promise. But for the time being, this is where we are lol. Please let me know what you think and what questions, comments, or concerns you have!
> 
> I'm also so sorry for not updating sooner. I know I told you all I already have most of this written and I do, but I had a family emergency come up and I spent most of the past week or so in the hospital dealing with a family member undergoing brain surgery and receiving a cancer diagnosis. Luckily, things seem to be looking up now, so I hope to get to a more regular posting schedule.
> 
> To make up for the delay I'm going to try to post at least one more time this week ;). Comments and questions are always welcome, as is constructive criticism and pointing out any errors you find so I can correct them (I edit these myself, after all!) 
> 
> Thanks for reading, I love you guys!!


	3. Baseball and Breaking the Law

Tony was frustrated. His prototype automated, sustainable backup generator was not working the way it was meant to, and for the life of him, he couldn’t figure out why. It was probably the coding. It wasn’t jump starting when the original power source failed.

He sighed. 

Steve, on the other hand, was having a pleasant morning. He’d been sketching down in the workshop while Tony worked, content to just relax until the ballgame started. It was quarter to twelve when he closed his notebook and started gathering his pencils, two of which were broken and essentially unusable thanks to the super strength he occasionally forgot about. 

“Where are you going?” Tony asked, startling Steve. He’d been sure Tony was wrapped up in his work. 

“Just upstairs. I was going to make some food. Baseball game comes on in a while,” Steve answered. 

“Oh.” Tony turned to the computer he’d been working on and tapped a few keys. His body was blocking Steve’s view of the screen. “They’re in New York, you know.” He said after a moment, referring to the Dodgers, Steve assumed. “Do you want to just... actually go?”

“What? Now?”

“Yeah, now.”

“I don’t even have a ticket.”

“Well, I can’t be certain, but I’m fairly sure I do. I think I have season tickets to every major sports team in New York. Technically the Mets count. So, yeah. There are tickets.”

“Tickets?”

“Yes, tickets. The things that get you into the ballpark to see the game.”

“I know what tickets are, Tony.”

“And yet, you seemed confused.” Tony knew the minute he said it that it was his tone was off — he hadn’t snapped at Steve since the meltdown on the Helicarrier before the Battle of New York.

“Is… everything okay?” Steve’s eyes lingered on the abandoned project behind Tony.

“No. Sorry, I just can’t seem to figure that — ” he gestured vaguely at the pile of parts and the ineffective prototype behind him —“out. And I need a break. So. Baseball?” 

“Oh.” Steve fidgeted with the pad of paper in his hands. “Well, uh, yeah. Sure, I guess?”

“Don’t let me twist your arm.”

“No,” Steve said too quickly. His cheeks flushed hot with embarrassment. “We can go. It’ll be nice to get out of here for a while. Maybe it’ll help you solve your problem.”

“Let’s hope,” Tony says, laughing quietly at Steve’s abrupt enthusiasm. “JARVIS, I do have Mets season tickets, right?”

“Yes sir, you do. They’re on the first base line, near home plate.”

“Huh,” Tony turned to Steve. “Does that work for you?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, laughing. “I think I’m okay with that.”

* * *

Somehow, they made it for the first pitch. Steve chalked it up to the fact that Tony had a private driver with some sort of special access that got them from the Tower to Citi Field in record time. But in all honesty, Steve didn’t really care. 

He’d considered going to an actual baseball game a number of times since he’d been unthawed, but the idea always seemed so intimidating. Now that he was here he was excited — almost ridiculously so. There was just _something_ about a ballpark that felt familiar, no matter what century you were in.

He was pretty sure that Tony didn’t feel the same way.

“Have you ever even used these seats?” Steve asked, genuinely interested. Nothing in the duration of their friendship suggested that Tony was the least bit interested in baseball. Steve was about 90 percent certain that Tony was humoring him by coming with him and that was… well, not really surprising because Tony was a good friend but incredibly kind nonetheless.

“Probably.”

“I don’t think you’ve ever been here in your entire life.” Steve said, almost expecting Tony to deny it.

“I’ve definitely been to a Yankees game. At least once.”

“That’s the saddest thing I’ve ever heard,” Steve said, shaking his head dramatically. “It’s the American pastime.”

“Yeah, well this American’s pastime always involved more…power tools and explosives.”

“Seriously? Even when you were a little kid?”

Steve watched Tony's face fall, his concern growing at the shift he was seeing. Tony’s expression slipped almost instantly from open and relaxed to guarded and on edge. That hadn't been Steve’s intent with the question at all.

“Sorry,” he backtracked quickly. “That’s not really any of my business. I guess this place just makes me a little nostalgic.”

Tony narrowed his eyes, watching Steve closely. Steve didn’t really know what Tony was searching for but he must have found it because he relaxed ever so slightly, leaning back into his seat.

“Did you come to games often?” Tony asked, trying to salvage the conversation.

“Oh, God no.” Steve chuckled at the thought. “We definitely couldn’t afford that. I only ever made it to… gosh, four games? But Bucky and I must have listened to hundreds of them on the radio. And a few times we came all the way to Ebbets Field just to try to be part of everything, even though we couldn’t actually get to the field.”

“Why do I have this feeling you two were always causing trouble?”

“Because you know me.”

They both laughed.

“We snuck into a game once,” Steve said, remembering the incident with a fond smile. 

“No way,” Tony stared at him, eyes wide. “There’s no way that Steve Rogers, the paragon of virtue and Doing the Right Thing, broke the law.”

Steve snickered.

“You do know I’ve broken the law several times, right?”

Tony just continued to stare.

“Seriously, sneaking into a baseball game was just the beginning of my life of crime. Unless you count just generally being attracted to men because that definitely came first.” He laughed, despite the darker tone of that comment. “There were dozens of back-alley fights. A bar brawl, or two. Then there was lying on the enlistment forms — my first attempt at a federal crime, I believe. 

"And that’s all _before_ I started disobeying direct orders from my military superiors to go rogue. Good times.”

Tony was still just… staring.

Steve took a long pull of his beer and waited.

And waited. 

Until, finally, Tony _laughed._ His real, genuine laugh.

“You know everything my father ever told me about you was wrong?”

“What, he didn’t tell you about my affinity for jumping out of planes?”

“Okay, that part was— _is_ true.”

“Sorry the rest of it wasn’t true,” Steve said. He was grinning; it sort of undercut the apology.

“Don’t be. I’ve never been happier. He was wrong about _you_ , of all things. I was never able to challenge him when he said things about you because I could never know as much about you as he did.”

“Well, you certainly know more by now than he ever did. I only interacted with your dad on a handful of occasions. He was part of the team, and he was a good man when I knew him, but he wasn’t one of my closest friends or anything.”

“He respected you more than you know, I think,” Tony said, sighing. “But he also built you up into someone you weren’t—aren’t. It’s weird, talking about you then and now.”

“Trust me, I understand.”

On the field, one of the Dodgers’ better players hit the ball into an opening in the outfield. It was a double and the first hit of the game. Steve clapped with the other people rooting for the visiting team with a wide smile. 

“I know you didn’t actually want to come here,” Steve said, his voice low as the fans settled down. He took a deep breath to appreciate the smell of hot dogs and peanuts. It had all changed, but somehow it was still familiar enough. The air in the ballpark was warm and heavy, just the way he remembered. “But thank you.” 

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Sure, Tony.” Steve rolled his eyes.

“Hey, Steve?”

“Yeah?”

“How long is a typical baseball game?”

Steve started laughing. Full head-thrown-back, uncontrollable laughter that shook his entirely too-large shoulders where he was sitting beside Tony. It was the kind of infectious laughter that set Tony off in seconds. Neither of them could seem to stop it, either. Every time Steve would take a deep breath and try to compose himself he'd look over at Tony, remember his question and fall to pieces again. 

They were both still laughing not paying any attention to the game when the Dodgers’ rising star hit a home run into center field.

* * *

By the top of the seventh, the Dodgers were up by two and Steve was eating his second hotdog. By Tony's count, he’d also gone through two bags of peanuts, which he’d shared with Tony, a couple beers and, some honey roasted almonds. Steve had also bought the family with three kids sitting to their left three bags of cotton candy shortly after said kids had loudly (but adorably) informed their parents they were sitting in the same row as “Captain America _and_ Iron Man.” 

Tony was pretty sure the parents were going to seriously regret letting Steve buy their kids literal bags of sugar later today when the inevitable meltdown happened. But for now, everyone seemed content. 

“You know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you spend this much money at once?” Tony said, mostly without thinking.

“It’s a _baseball game_ , Tony. This is where Americans’ money is meant to be spent.”

“Well, I’m glad you’re having a good time,” Tony said with a chuckle.

“I really am,” Steve said, grinning. “What about you? Have I made you a baseball fan yet?”

“I don’t know that I’d ever come to one of these alone,” Tony said. “But yeah, I’m having a good time.”

“Good.” Steve’s eyes fixed on the screen, which was announcing the start of the seventh inning stretch. “Come on.” He grabbed Tony’s arm and pulled him up. “We’ve gotta stand.”

“So this tradition has been around for a while, then?”

“Of course!” 

The old, familiar tune of “Take Me Out to the Ballgame” started up, right on cue.

* * *

“I can’t believe they won,” Tony said as he and Steve climbed onto the Tower elevator.

They’d left the stadium as everyone cleared out and walked to a nearby restaurant for dinner. Once they were finished eating — Tony would never really understand how Steve was _still_ hungry — the traffic from the game had mostly cleared out, meaning they could get back to the tower in less than an hour. 

“What do you mean?” Steve asked. “They’re ranked better than the Mets in the league right now.”

“I’m going to be honest, I didn’t know that. I was just really hoping I wouldn’t bring you there to watch them lose,” Tony admitted. 

Steve laughed.

“Well, even when they lose, it’s still fun.”

“Really?” Tony seemed genuinely curious. “Sometimes I feel like I don’t understand sports fans.”

“It’s just about the experience. Being at a ballgame is just… fun.”

“So you should go to them more often.”

“Maybe. They’re not in town all that often, though.”

“So just fly out to go see them.”

“I’m not flying to see every game. That’s ridiculous.”

“But when they’re here?”

“Sure. I’ll see them when they’re here.”

“Good,” Tony nodded. “You should do things you enjoy.”

“So should you,” Steve looked over at him as the elevator doors opened. “And if you ever want company, just let me know.”

“Thanks, Steve.”

“I mean it.”

“Yeah, Steve.” Tony smiled. “I know you do.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys, sorry again about the delay. I really struggled with this chapter for some reason, but I'm also pretty happy with the way it turned out. I felt like there was some good bonding, so I hope you guys see it the same way. Please, let me know what you think and what you'd like to see more of (or less of) in the future!


	4. Impromptu Early-Morning Couch Gatherings

“Sir, there seems to be a problem,” JARVIS interrupted Tony’s work. 

“What’s up, J?”

“Captain Rogers denies that he needs assistance, but my calculations suggest otherwise.”

“Something is wrong with Steve?” Tony quickly got to his feet, abandoning his tools where they were. “What’s going on?”

“I believe he’s having a panic attack. I was instructed to alert you.”

“Shit. Right, yeah. Yes.” He remembered that conversation. And subsequently going into JARVIS’s protocols to ensure that no lock-down, blackout, override order Tony could ever enact in a fit of anger would prevent him from getting the message. Just as an extra precaution. 

“Fuck, what are you supposed to do to help someone through a panic attack?”

“Well, what Captain Rogers did for you seemed to help,” JARVIS replied, dutifully. “My research also indicates that remaining calm will help. It is important to let the person know they are safe and unharmed and to allow them to sit and rest while they wait it out.”

Tony took the stairs two at a time before realizing he had no idea where Steve even was. 

“Where is he?”

“His room.”

“What time is it?”

“2:17 a.m.”

“Was he asleep?”

“I do not believe so.”

“But he was probably trying to. When did he go to bed?”

“Around midnight.”

“Okay.” At the top of the stairs Tony paused. “Is anyone else awake? I’m not sure I’m the best person for this.”

“He has not authorized me to tell anyone other than you, sir.”

“Right,” Tony took a deep breath. He could do this. It was just Steve. _Patient, perfect Steve who always seemed to know exactly what to do in these situations,_ Tony’s brain supplied helpfully. Just Steve. “Okay.”

He stepped across the hall and hovered by Steve’s door. Knowing he couldn’t let himself hesitate, he rapped on the door twice with his knuckles. He hoped it was loud enough for Steve to hear but not loud enough to startle him. 

“Steve?” Tony asked, twisting the knob and pushing the door open just a hair. “Steve? It’s me. Uh, Tony. JARVIS said you might need some… company. Mind if I come in?”

JARVIS responded. 

“Captain Rogers has given you permission to enter.”

Tony walked into the room slowly, unsure what kind of situation he’d be walking into. Steve was sitting on his bed, with his hands buried in his hair. The covers were untucked, pulled back, and rumpled, which was the only indication Steve had been attempting to sleep at all tonight, considering he was fully clothed in his usual running gear.

“Hi Tony,” Steve said on a quick exhale.

“Hey Steve.” Tony stepped further into the room. He took in the scene in front of him, still feeling incredibly out of his element. “Mind if I sit with you for a bit?”

Steve shook his head jerkily, and Tony sat down on the mattress beside him.

“Were you going out for a run?” Tony asked, mostly rhetorically. “Or do you just sleep in your sweatpants and under armor shirts?”

Steve’s shoulders shook with a shaky laugh.

Tony plowed forward.

“Okay, so uh, I actually have no idea what I’m doing with this. But I want to help. And you helped me before by just, you know, being there. And also talking. I can’t do very many things in the realm of comfort, but I can definitely talk your ear off. So. First of all, I’m going to be honest, I totally thought you were lying about the whole ‘I have panic attacks’ thing up until now. You clearly were not. I should have known better.

“And, just in case you’re worried you woke me up or interrupted something important, I feel like you should know two things.” Tony took a deep breath. “One, I almost never sleep. It’s… a problem, usually, but not today. And two, nothing I was working on was even remotely more important than this. So just…if you were worried, don’t worry about any of that.

“Also, I know logic doesn't always help with these sorts of things, but just in case it might, I have a whole list of things I can go through. JARVIS is, after all, a  state-of-the-art, high-tech security system  that rivals all others. And I don’t say that to brag. I say that as a fundamentally paranoid person who added several thousand lines of code to JARVIS’ security protocols after being captured by terrorists as a way to get some sort of peace of mind. 

“Every time someone steps foot in the tower, JARVIS runs facial recognition and then completes a deep background check. If any red flags pop up a tower security agent trails the individual until they leave. As far as more… non-conventional entrances and exits, JARVIS regularly scans the tower to see if anyone is trying to scale the building or monitor anything that goes on inside. Aside from _maybe_ the Pentagon and the White House, you won’t find anywhere safer. But honestly, Natasha is here and I’m pretty sure her presence makes this safer than either of those places.”

Steve laughed a little at that and leaned into Tony’s side, slightly. Tony thought that might be a sign that it was okay to touch Steve, and moved his hand so it’s resting openly on his thigh just in case Steve needed a lifeline. He wasn’t sure Steve even noticed, so he just let Steve lean against him heavily and continued talking.

“Ultimately, what I’m trying to say is you’re safe here. I know it probably doesn’t feel like it, but you’re safe. Especially right now. JARVIS would alert both of us if anything was even the slightest bit wrong. Right J?”

“Yes, sir.”

“We’re even protected from cyber-hacks in the tower. I’m not sure if that’s something you really worry about, but virtually every single thing you do online inside these walls is protected by a dozen or more fail-safes. I’m talking everything from online banking to googling the newest Italian restaurant. I take security… very seriously. 

"Like I said, paranoid, insomniac genius. It used to drive Pepper crazy.” He wasn’t sure why his mind went there, but Tony decided to just run with it. He was running out of things to say, otherwise.

“I’d be up all hours of the night, working on the suits, or designing and redesigning new ways to keep us safe. Then suddenly it’d be morning, and I’d realize I never went to bed. Can’t say I blame her for ending things, looking back. She deserved better than someone who was only half-there.”

“Just because you were having a hard time doesn’t mean she deserved better,” Steve said, voice firm. It shocked the hell out of Tony.

“I don’t know about that. She deserved to have someone who she didn’t have to try to hold together on top of holding together a company.”

“Tony.”

“Steve.” Tony looked at Steve, eyes narrowed. His breathing had slowed, but it was still much quicker than it normally was when Steve was calm. “How can I help?”

“You are helping. Um,” Steve looked down at his hands, which were clenched into fists in his lap. “Talking is good. You talking is good.”

“Okay. Lucky for you, I can do that.”

“Distractions help.”

“Right. Okay.” Tony could do distractions. It was his specialty. “What about touch?”

“Might help. Not sure.”

Tony could understand that. He hadn't known it would help him until it had.

“Let me know if it makes things worse,” Tony said before sliding his left hand into Steve’s right. He curled his fingers around Steve’s hand and relaxed slightly when Steve responded, squeezing tightly. “And as for the distractions, have I told you about the update to the helicarriers SHIELD is insisting I work on?”

Steve shook his head, his eyebrows raising ever so slightly. It was one of the unexpected things Tony had learned about Steve since they’d gotten close. He was unbelievably curious and genuinely enjoyed when Tony talked about his work. Even when Steve didn’t understand all of it, he was still intrigued by the technology. Tony was always surprised to find that when he came down off an excitement or frustration fueled tangent, Steve was still attentively listening to him. Sometimes he even asked questions. 

That seemed unlikely given his current state, but Tony wasn’t ruling anything out. 

“Well after our helicarrier fun last time — you remember, when I got chopped up by the helicarrier turbines like a fork stuck in a blender? — I _may_ have mentioned, totally off-hand, that SHIELD should look into contracting someone to simulate my repulsor tech for their helicarriers. If you don’t have rotating blades nothing can get stuck in said rotating blades, you know? Well, Fury took that to heart. So after he found out I digitally broke into SHIELD’s confidential files this last time, he said I owed him some new helicarrier engines as restitution.

“Don’t tell him, but I would have done it without being leveraged. Repulsor tech is just safer for everyone on board. Plus, I can incorporate it into SI travel. But, as it turns out, taking repulsor tech that’s tiny and making it large enough to propel something as big as the helicarrier into the sky? That’s been an interesting challenge.

“It’s mostly a matter of getting the math right. The first time I ran a rough estimate of the numbers I thought I’d need, the propulsion would have been strong enough to blast the helicarrier into space. Cool, sure, but not quite what Fury was going for.”

“What exactly _is_ Fury going for?” Steve asked with an edge to his voice. 

“You really don’t trust that guy, do you?” Steve shrugged. Tony squeezed his fingers lightly. “I knew there was a reason I liked you. You shouldn’t trust him. I don’t. I’m not entirely sure what he’s looking to do with these repulsor engines. He was talking about creating helicarriers that don’t have to land. Not sure why he’d want those but rest assured, I’m keeping an eye on it.

“I feel like I can safely share with you the fact that I regularly break into SHIELD’s secured files. At least once a month. After the whole debacle with the tesseract and the Chitauri…”

“That’s smart,” Steve said. “Peggy may have helped found SHIELD but…”

“But so did Howard. And it’s grown so big in size that not everyone in SHIELD can have pure intentions. Not anymore. Someone needs to be keeping an eye on them. Leaving their power unchecked is a recipe for disaster.”

“If you find something—”

“I’ll let you know. Trust me.”

“I do,” Steve said, voice soft and sure. Tony supposed that made sense. He was here, after all.

“But the SHIELD thing is more of something I work on when I’m dead tired. I might be willing to do it, but if I do it too quickly SHIELD gets twitchy whenever I don’t make their projects top priority. Better to make them wait for it, even when it’s a quick thing.

“My main project right now outside of that is the new model of the Stark pad projection system. Remember when you said you thought the holographic projections I use in the workshop might have applications outside of tech? Well, you were right. 

"I showed it to some doctors from Korea when I was talking about other Stark medical tech, and they thought it might come in handy for teaching. For surgical simulations that are manipulatable and anatomically-accurate, the whole deal. It’s still a work in progress, but it’s something.

“It means I have to bring in a lot more outside consultants. I don’t know much about human anatomy and, funnily enough, neither do most of my engineers. Who knew? I’ve been doing some reading, don’t get me wrong, but I don’t think I was really built for that type of science. It’s interesting but too high-stakes.”

“Unlike engineering?” Steve asked with a wry smile.

“The worst thing that could happen when I’m engineering stuff now is an explosion of some kind. If I screw something up and it impacts a surgeon’s knowledge of the human body? Then it could hurt or kill someone.” Tony shook his head. “So I’m bringing in the experts.”

“Probably a good idea.”

“I thought so.”

Steve squeezed Tony’s hand and let out a breathy laugh. 

“Okay.” He breathed deeply. “I think I’m okay now.”

“Yeah?” Tony looked Steve over. The room was dimly lit, but it seemed like he was getting some of his color back. His breathing was back to normal, too. Tony squeezed his hand back. “Okay.”

They sat in silence for about a full minute, hands still clasped together tightly. 

“Can I ask you something?” Tony said, knowing he should probably just leave it alone. 

“Sure.”

“Did you decide you were going for a run before everything kind of went downhill or after?”

“After,” Steve admitted, eyes fixed on the floor. “In my defense, sometimes it actually does help.” 

“It’s two in the morning.”

“Yeah, I know.” Steve sighed. “I shouldn’t have even bothered trying to sleep. I knew it was going to go sideways.”

“Any particular reason?”

“Nightmares were bad last night. This usually follows not long after.”

“I’m sorry. I know how that is.”

“Not your fault.”

“No,” Tony agreed. “But I could have helped, somehow. Maybe. If you’d told me.”

“You did help, Tony.” Steve held up their hands as if to prove it. “But yeah. I probably should have… I don’t know. Sorry.”

“Don’t be. Seriously. We’ve all been there.”

“Well, I don’t know about that.”

“Oh, you know what I mean.”

Steve smiled, but Tony could see the exhaustion in his eyes. He could relate to that.

“I don’t know what to do now,” Steve said.

“Well, how do you feel about not going for a run and instead coming downstairs to help me?”

“Help you with what?”

“Not sure yet. But I’m sure I can come up with something to keep both our brains occupied for a few hours. And then maybe we can watch the early morning news or something. What do you say?”

“Yeah, okay.” Steve loosened his grip on Tony’s hand but didn’t let go. “Thanks, Tony.”

* * *

When Natasha wandered into the living room at a quarter after five on Thursday morning, she wasn’t expecting to find Steve asleep on the couch under the Iron Man blanket Clint had bought off Amazon as a joke. 

More than that, though, she wasn’t at _all_ expecting to find Tony wide awake and watching the CBS local news while soothingly running his thumb back and forth along Steve’s sleeve-covered shoulder. 

It was all a lot to take in this early in the morning. But, sure enough, Steve and Tony were sharing the couch that sat five comfortably. Tony was on the end, with the footrest out and the chair reclined back while Steve was sprawled out across the other four seats with his head on a pillow beside Tony’s thigh. It was… interesting.

She walked into the room, lingering by the TV to give Tony time to notice her. To his credit, when he saw her he didn’t miss a beat.

“Morning,” he whispered, thumb moving so evenly along Steve’s shoulder that Nat wondered if he even realized he was doing it. 

“Hey.” She looked down at Steve. “He okay?”

Tony nodded, sighed, then shrugged. It was, more or less, the universal body language for “Are any of us?”

Natasha could understand that.

“Mind if I sit with you guys?” She couldn't help it; they looked ridiculously cute and, well, comforting.

“The more the merrier,” Tony said, voice still low. “Just try not to wake him.” 

He didn’t really have to say it, of course. It was _Nat._ Somehow, before he knew what had happened, she was on the far end of the couch with Steve’s feet in her lap. Steve hadn’t so much as shifted. He was either exhausted beyond belief or a ridiculously heavy sleeper and, really, Tony supposed it didn’t matter either way. 

Tony smiled at Nat, and she smiled back, a touch of sadness in her expression. That look, the one Tony was sure only a handful of people on the planet could really relate to, was one of the things that convinced him he’d done the right thing by inviting the Avengers to come live in the Tower. 

They needed each other, in whatever weird form that need happened to manifest itself. Such as the occasional, impromptu early-morning couch gathering.

That was only further confirmed when about half an hour later, as the sun came up outside the window, Tony glanced over at Nat to find her dozing peacefully.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again everyone! Thank you so much for diligently reading my story. It honestly means the world to me. I'd love to hear what you think about the characters so far and about how everything is going, so drop me a comment - even if it's something super short I'll love reading it! 
> 
> I also want to make a note now that isn't super important to this chapter, but is for future chapters. The events in this story are spread out over a number of months. It's not entirely clear but in my head this was, more or less, the schedule I worked out: 
> 
> A Situation to Address: Mid-March 2013  
> Good Friends: End of March/Beginning of April 2013  
> Baseball and Breaking the Law: Mid-April 2013  
> Impromptu Early-Morning Couch Gatherings: May 2013
> 
>  
> 
> **I made a slight edit to this chapter so it would be consistent with future chapters.


	5. Only a Matter of Time

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so this one took a turn. Up until this point, everything has been fluffy and upbeat. This chapter... well I had to update the tags because there are somewhat graphic depictions of serious injuries. That said, I'm in the business of writing happy endings, not sad ones. So trust me if you can, and hold on for our lovable, injury-prone, superhero duo.
> 
> If you want to skip anything too graphic you can jump from the line that says, "'Yes.' It was the only answer she was going to get." to after the story break.

Really, Tony should have expected it. In their business, it was only a matter of time before someone fell off the grid on a mission. He just thought it was particularly unlucky for him that it had to be Steve. But it was also fitting, given Steve’s unwavering stubbornness.

“Does _anyone_ have eyes on Rogers?” Tony asked into the comms, his voice much more strained than he would have liked.

“Negative,” Nat answered first.

“He’s not here.” And that was Clint. 

“I’m going high to get a better look.”

“Stark, you’ve still got robots on your six. Deal with them. I’m sure Rogers is fine.”

He turned to check over his shoulder, and sure enough, Nat was right.

“Damn it,” Tony snapped, spinning around to face the approaching enemy. “Alright, can someone _else_ try to find Rogers while I deal with this, please?” 

Tony fired a repulsor blast at the first of seven eight-foot-tall robots clamoring over one another to get to where he was standing. This one had long and surprisingly sturdy arms, which seemed somehow undermined due to the fact that said arms ended with small spinning drill bits. That was fairly impractical as a weapon, and only occasionally useful as a power tool. 

“I’m on it,” Clint said. 

In the HUD screen, JARVIS was tracking Clint’s movements, which was the only reason Tony saw that he was, in fact, making good on the promise. Clint’s specialized arrows worked well on the robots and judging by the unmoving pile of metal near Clint’s feet, he’d handed the worst of the attack on his side of the park. He could look for Steve.

That was a relief.

_Perfect._

Tony didn’t understand the small but formidable portion of the tech-savvy population who truly believed that a robot army was the way to rise up in the world. There were better ways; putting your skills to use in ways that might help the world was one of them. This guy, from what little Tony had researched about him while simultaneously fighting his robotic creations, was a college dropout who decided the best use of his time was creating an amateur-hour robot army. 

The real issue was there were so damn _many_ of the robots, and no two were exactly alike. To top it all off, they were faster than scrap-heap robots had any right to be.

He fired at the drill bit-bot once, then again. It jerked, sparked twice, and collapsed on its side.

“Any word on Steve?” Tony asked, even as he turned his attention to the six robots that were apparently bored with him. The bots were turning away from the clearing where Tony and the team had set up their defense and moving toward the edge of the park — heading for civilians.

Tony started to follow.

“Yeah,” Clint didn’t sound right. “We’ve got a problem.”

Tony stumbled in the suit for the first time in years but kept going.

“What happened?”

“We need a medic for Cap.”

“What the hell happened?” Tony knew he shouldn’t be snapping at Clint, but it wasn’t exactly optional at this point. “You have to tell me because I’m dealing with this.”

He was two steps away from the closest robot and opted to punch his metal-covered fist through the central component of the bot, rather than blasting it. Admittedly, not his finest moment.

“Cap’s down.” Somehow, hearing Natasha’s calm, steady voice was even less comforting. “Tony, get paramedics here as quickly as you can.” 

He wanted to complain about being the only person on the team capable of calling 911, but it made sense. He had a direct line to JARVIS, and JARVIS was going to be the best option for this.

“J, I need the nearest empty ambulance redirected here, ASAP. Tell them Captain America is down.” Tony really hated that the paramedics would be more likely to recognize the title than Steve’s name.

“Yes, sir.” There was a beat of silence. Tony blasted two robots. There were only three left that he could see. “Sir, is there anything you can tell me about Captain Rogers’ condition?”

“Nat, talk to me. The paramedics need to know what’s wrong with Steve.”

“He’s got a couple of stab wounds.”

“A couple of stab wounds isn’t enough to take him out, Nat. I’ve seen the man fight. What else?”

Two more robots dropped, smoking and sparking.

“Okay, so it looks like four stab wounds. Two to the abdomen, one to the left shoulder that’s pretty deep,” Nat started. “One to his right thigh. There are a lot of superficial cuts. Something did a number on his head, too; blunt force I think. He’s bleeding. A lot, between the head wound and the stab wound to his thigh. We’re doing what we can, but Clint and I have limited medical training for field injuries and it’s not like we have supplies—”

“Got it,” Tony said, cutting off whatever she was going to say next. He didn’t need to hear it. 

He poured every ounce of anger he was feeling into his attack as he laid into the final robot. In seconds, the thing was a tangled mass of metal, wires, sparks, and smoke. He wasn’t entirely sure how it happened and he didn’t care. The thing was beaten and dead, and Tony’s hands were mostly unharmed.

“Paramedics are three minutes away, sir,” JARVIS said.

Tony flew from his side of the park to the other, tracking Nat and Clint to find out where Steve was. 

“What the hell is he doing over here?” Tony said, angry. The suit was already opening to let him have complete range of motion, and he stepped free of it. He hit the emergency release inside the suit, which exposed the medical kit he built into the body of the armor. He yanked it free. “He was supposed to be covering the _middle_ of the park, _not_ the fucking robot factory’s front door.”

“Yeah, well, it’s Steve,” Clint said as if that explained anything. He was hovering next to Steve’s head, as if unsure what to do. “He saw an opportunity to end it and he took it. Sound familiar?”

“Don’t start with me right now.”

“Boys!” Natasha snapped. “Enough.”

“Give me some room,” Tony ordered, finding some semblance of calm. He’d studied emergency medicine for exactly this reason. He wasn't about to get caught out again like he did forever ago in Afghanistan. He could do this. 

He could.

“Do you have any idea what you’re doing?” Nat asked as Tony kneeled down next to Steve’s prone body. She was using all her weight to put pressure on the stab wound to his thigh, but all she had to stop the bleeding was her bare hands and what was left of Steve’s uniform.

“Yes.” It was the only answer she was going to get. 

Tony pressed his fingers to the left of Steve’s windpipe. His pulse was far too fast but strong, and that was a good sign. His breathing, however, was uneven and rapid. He was pale, and Tony wasn't convinced it was all from blood loss. One of the stab wounds was to his upper abdomen, probably nicking the ribcage; it was way too close to Steve’s lungs for Tony’s liking. A punctured lung would explain the paleness, the rapid heart rate, the shortness of breath, and strange breathing.

Tony started to cut Steve’s suit free so he could see Steve’s shoulders and chest better.

“Inside the kit there’s a flat, brown package labeled “Halo seal” in green. Find it and hand it to me with something to wipe away this blood.”

Clint handed him a white terry cloth and Tony wiped the blood away from the wound just as Clint pressed the chest seal into his other hand. Tony ripped into it, peeled the seal free of the backing and pressed it to the wound firmly. It was the best he could do.

“Paramedics are still two minutes and thirty seconds away,” JARVIS said over comms. “They are stuck in traffic from the incident. They are not moving at the moment.”

“Fuck,” Clint said quietly. 

Tony moved from Steve’s upper abdominal wound to the others.

The second abdominal stab wound was through Steve’s left side, and Tony was just praying it hadn’t hit anything important. The shoulder wound was probably going to fuck up Steve’s muscles for a while, at least, but Tony didn’t think it was a major concern at the moment. That just left the thigh wound. 

“Natasha, I need his leg exposed. I can’t see anything with the suit in the way like that.”  _Anything but his blood,_ Tony thought, some mix of frustration and panic.

Nat pulled out a knife and started cutting away at the reinforced fabric. It wasn’t ideal, but it was the best they could do. 

“Below the seams, Nat. I designed it so we’d be able to get access if we needed to.” He didn’t check to make sure Nat was following his orders. “Clint, I need your help. Up by his head.”

Tony pulled the emergency kit closer, flipping it open to find some gauze. He tried not to think about why his fingers were slick with blood.

“I need you to put some gauze on the head wound. Don’t apply pressure; I think he’s got a skull fracture. But at least cover it up, wrap it if you can do that without moving his head.”

Clint started ripping open packages of sterile gauze pads as soon as Tony handed them to him.

Tony checked Steve’s pupils and breathed a quiet sigh of relief. 

“His pupils are still the same size, so we've got that on our side at least.”

“Here,” Nat said, calling Tony’s attention back to Steve’s leg which was now accessible.

“Start applying pressure to the wound on his shoulder and the one on his left side, if you can do both,” Tony ordered, switching places with her so he was beside Steve’s thigh.

The wound was on Steve’s inner thigh. Whatever had stabbed him had gone straight through his leg about four and a half inches above his knee.

“Alright he’s bleeding, but not enough that it hit the femoral artery or vein,” Tony said, thinking out loud. “Blood’s dark, so I’m thinking it hit a vein, possibly a large one. Dammit Steve, you don’t like to make things easy on me.”

The cloth he’d used to wipe Steve’s chest was lying on his stomach unused, so Tony grabbed it to apply pressure to the thigh wound. He knew it wasn’t enough; the cloth started to darken with blood as soon as it touched the wound. 

“Alright, as soon as anyone has free hands I need some more gauze and some help,” Tony said. He heard gauze packages ripping and pressed down on Steve’s leg harder.

“Here,” Clint said. He was holding out a few gauze pads. Tony grabbed them and swapped the soaked through cloth for the gauze. “Where do you need me?”

“Here,” Tony said. “Next to me, farther up his leg.”

“The EMTs are moving again,” JARVIS informed them. “ETA one minute.”

“I’m applying pressure to the wound,” Tony explained, leaning into it more. “But it’s not enough. We need to slow the flow of blood to the site, so I want you applying pressure farther up his leg. A couple inches to my right.”

Clint positioned his hands and looked over at Tony. “Here?”

“Yes. Nat, head’s up. This much weight on his leg might move him. If you can try to hold his head and shoulders steady, I’d rather not jostle him if we can help it.”

“Got it,” she confirmed. “I’m ready when you are.”

“Go, Clint.”

It seemed impossibly far away, but Tony could hear the sirens.

“How close is the ambulance, Nat?” Tony asked, almost afraid of the answer.

“Edge of the park. Maybe twenty-five yards.”

Tony sighed. 

“Okay, just keep applying pressure until someone tells you to stop.” 

The first paramedic to reach them was clearly in more than a little shock, with his wide and slightly glassy blue eyes. 

Tony could understand — really, he could. On any other day, in any other situation, he would sympathize with the twenty-something paramedic who just drove through the remains of an attempted robot takeover, only to find Captain America unconscious and bleeding, with his suit torn to shreds courtesy of the three other superheroes who were currently administering first aid.

“Hey?” Tony snapped, none-too-kindly. “Can you do this, or do we need to wait for your partner to get here?”

“No,” he closed his eyes, squared his shoulders and reset. “I’m Liam, and I’m here to help. Tell me what’s going on. Sophia is getting the stretcher ready, she’s right behind me.”

“Okay,” Tony nodded. “He’s got four stab wounds and a serious head injury. We’ve done our best to manage the bleeding but I’m guessing he’s still lost two, possibly three pints of blood.”

“Where are the stab wounds?”

“One to his left shoulder, and one to his left side. They got his upper abdomen once, nicked his rib and possibly punctured his lung.”

“And you applied this chest seal?” Liam was kneeling next to Steve now, examining the field dressing.

“Yes. It was the best I could do.”

“It looks good,” he said, reassuringly. “I’m guessing you have some sort of field medicine training.”

“Self-taught, for the most part, but yes.”

“And the other wound?”

“Stab to the inner thigh. I’m no expert, but I think it hit the great saphenous vein. I couldn’t get the bleeding to slow much on my own, so—” 

“You started applying pressure farther up the vein, too. Good. This is good.”

“And you said he has a head wound?”

“Yes,” Tony said. “His pupils were the same size last I checked.”

“Still are,” Liam confirmed, much to everyone’s relief. 

“How is he?” A sharp female voice cut through the conversation. 

“He seems stable to me. Their field medicine was good. I think we can move him.”

Sophia looked Steve over. She checked his pupils again, and his pulse. She examined each of the wounds, with the exception of the stab wound to his thigh because she didn’t want to move Clint and Tony.

“You guys did good. Even super soldiers can’t survive anything,” Sophia said, looking over their work. “If I’m not mistaken, what you three just did is keeping Mr. Rogers alive.”

Tony closed his eyes in relief. She knew who this was, she knew it was _Steve_ , and even if that didn’t mean the same for her as it did for Tony he knew she understood how he was feeling. He could hear it in her voice. He trusted her. He could listen to her.

“Alright, here’s what we’re going to do…”

* * *

Tony _hated_ hospitals. He didn’t need a therapist to tell him it was probably because all his memories with hospitals were associated with death. He didn’t even think he could be blamed for that; he’d only been 17 when he’d been asked to ID the bodies of his dead parents.

“You okay?” Nat asked, looking at Tony closely. She could tell he wasn’t at ease here.

“No.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“No.” He closed his eyes and tipped his head back. These waiting room chairs had to be the least comfortable things on earth.

“Do you think it would help if you maybe washed your hands? And changed clothes? Clint should be back with things from the Tower soon.”

He looked at his hands. In the ambulance, the paramedics had given him some disinfectant wipes and he’d gotten rid of most of the blood on his hands. Steve’s blood. The sleeves of his shirt were stained red and blood was smudged in spots up to his elbows. 

There was still blood under his fingernails and in the creases on his hands.

“And I really think you should let someone look at your knuckles,” Nat added, tipping her chin at his hands. “You did a number on them.”

Yeah. The suit wasn’t exactly designed for hand to hand combat, particularly not the way he went after those robots, without some kind of damage. His hand was definitely swollen. 

“I’m fine.”

“I know. But Steve would be pissed if he knew you didn’t get looked at.”

“Hey,” Clint said, saving Tony from having to reply. He had a duffel bag slung over his shoulder. “Sorry it took so long. Traffic is always a disaster after attacks like this. How is he?”

“They’re getting him cleaned up,” Nat said. “They think they stopped the bleed in his leg. They took him for an MRI as soon as they got the wounds dressed. Right now, though, he’s stable and back in his room.”

“And he’s not awake?”

“Not yet.”

“That’s normal,” Tony cut in. “The serum works better if he’s sleeping. He heals quicker. Or, that’s what all the research tells us. It’s better that he’s unconscious.”

“So they don’t think that has anything to do with the blow to the head?”

“He’s stable.” Natasha shot him a look sharp enough to shut him up. “They don’t have any reason to believe he’s anything other than all right.”

“Yet,” Tony said. His voice sounded wrong even to his own ears.

“Tony, no,” Nat’s tone was softer than he’d ever heard it. “Come on,” she placed her hand between his shoulder blades, pressing firmly until he stood up. She took the bag from Clint. 

“I’m fine—”

“You’re not,” Nat said. Her voice was low and gentle. She rummaged through the bag for some of his things — God only knows what Clint had grabbed for him — and pulled something free. “And right now you’re going to go get changed. And wash up. Okay?”

He took a deep breath, trying to reorient himself. His thoughts had been spiraling out of control since he’d gotten onto the ambulance with Steve.

“Yeah, okay.”

Nat pressed the folded clothes into his hands and directed him toward the individual family restroom a few feet from where they'd been waiting. He washed his hands first, scrubbing aggressively up to his mid-forearms, and making sure to get the blood out from under his fingernails. He washed them a second time for good measure, and then stripped off his shirt to see if he had blood anywhere else. 

Aside from his knuckles, which were swollen, red, and scabbed over in a few places where the skin had split, he was unharmed. It usually worked that way — the rest of his team would have abrasions and scrapes, but Tony’s injuries would usually consist of bruising from being tossed around in the suit.

Today didn’t seem any different on that front, which was how he knew the blood that had soaked through his shirt in spots up his arm wasn’t his. The blood that left a reddish brown stain on the left side of his stomach also wasn’t his. He didn’t want to think about how much blood Steve lost, in all, if he had this much blood on his body. 

He scrubbed it away viciously until his skin was red and raw.

Someone knocked on the door.

“Tony, they think he’s waking up,” Nat said through the door. 

“I’ll be out in just a second.” 

He pulled on the shirt Clint had grabbed for him and then changed into the sweatpants.

He shoved the bloodied clothes into the trashcan and opened the door. 

“You look better,” Nat said. She and Clint were standing a few feet down the hall just outside Steve’s room.

“Is he awake?”

A nurse in purple scrubs responded instead of Natasha.

“Just barely.” She took two steps toward the room. “He’s probably going to be in and out for a bit. But you have a few minutes now if you’d like to come see him.”

No one moved. The nurse didn’t question it; she just walked into Steve’s room with a folded blanket in her hand, leaving the door cracked if someone chose to follow. 

Tony, Nat, and Clint looked at each other.

“Go, Tony,” Nat said finally. “He’ll want to see you, and we shouldn’t overwhelm him.”

“He’ll want to see all of us.”

“Tony,” Clint shook his head. “You know _you’d_ want to see _him_. Go. Just tell him we’re here.”

Tony looked at Nat and she offered a tired smile. 

Tony nodded. He could do this. Steve was alive, not dead. He wasn’t even in a coma the way Happy had been when Tony visited last year.

He walked into Steve’s room before he could think about it too much.

Steve was awake. Well, his eyes were open at least. 

Tony pulled the rolling chair from the corner to the center of the room, so it was sitting beside Steve’s bed. He sat down. Steve’s lips twitched up.

“I know you’re mad at me,” he said, his voice a raspy whisper.

“And let me guess — you’re not sorry?”

“I’m sorry I scared you.” Steve coughed a little and winced before trying to cover it up with a smile.

Tony stared at him and tried so hard to be angry. But his head was wrapped in a white gauze bandage, his leg was elevated, and he was wearing a white hospital gown with small blue diamonds on it. Something about it… it made _Steve_ of all people look small, somehow. Vulnerable. Tony hated it.

“I’m just glad you’re okay.” Tony leaned forward and propped his elbows up on the bed rail.

“How’s everybody else?”

“We’re fine. Everyone is fine. They’re on the other side of that wall.” Tony pointed toward the hall.

“You should go home,” Steve said after a minute, smiling. “All of you. Rest.”

“I’ll tell them you said that.”

“I’m talking about you too, Tony.”

“Not happening.” Tony shook his head quickly. “I’m staying right here with you.”

The nurse snorted, and Tony looked at her. He’d forgotten she was in the room, sitting at the computer in the corner beside the window. 

“I told you he wasn’t going anywhere,” she said, smirking at Steve knowingly.

“I might be able to convince him.” Steve shifted on the bed. Tony didn’t think he could get comfortable. 

“I highly doubt that,” she teased before turning to look at Tony. “The doctor told me all about your heroic field medicine. They won’t say anything because they don’t know enough about how this whole super soldier thing works,” she made an all-encompassing gesture at Steve’s entire body. “But _I’m_ pretty sure what you did saved his life.”

Tony froze. 

“And anyone who goes to those lengths to save someone isn’t leaving their side,” she finished, smiling fondly at Tony. “Which is what I told our patient here.”

She patted Steve’s good leg through the blankets, checked something on his IV drip, and then walked out with Steve’s chart.

“You really should go home, Tony,” Steve said a moment after she’d gone. Tony didn’t think Steve was very convincing.

“I’m not leaving,” Tony said, crossing his arms over his chest. “So you can just give that up right now. Hospitals suck; being in them alone is even worse.”

Steve rolled his eyes but was unable to keep the smile off his face.

“You want me to go tell the others to go home?”

“Yeah,” Steve blinked slowly. “I’m probably going to fall asleep soon. But I’d like to see them real quick.”

“Okay.”

Tony opened the door to the hall and waved Natasha and Clint inside. 

“Way to scare the shit out of us, Steve,” Clint said as he walked into the room. He stayed near the foot of Steve’s bed. Natasha walked around so she was on the opposite side of Tony. 

Whether Clint and Nat realized it or not, the three of them had successfully surrounded him. No one was getting to Steve on their watch.

“Sorry.” Steve laughed and then tried to cover his wince when laughing became painful. He wasn’t fooling anyone. “But I’m fine.”

“Yeah, I read your chart,” Nat said, unamused. “You lost four pints of blood courtesy of four stab wounds and a head injury. Not to mention the punctured lung.”

“Pretty sure that’s supposed to be confidential.”

“Your friends are all spies or people with severe boundary issues,” Natasha said, leaning over to press a kiss to Steve’s cheek. “You had to see that coming.”

“I resent that implication,” Tony said, the smile on his face undercutting his words.

“I _didn’t_ read your chart,” Clint said. “But I have eyes, which is how I know you’re not fine. So…”

Steve rolled his eyes. Tony was watching Steve and saw the moment when his expression shifted from playful and relaxed, if in pain, to serious.

“I appreciate what you all did for me,” Steve said. He looked from Natasha to Clint before finding Tony’s eyes and holding his gaze. “The doctors tried to explain everything. I’m sure I didn’t understand it all, but I know enough to know I wouldn’t have made it here without your help. So, thank you.”

“Any time,” Clint answered, patting Steve’s good leg the way the nurse had earlier.

There was a beat of silence. Tony looked over at Nat; she swallowed once and Tony thought for half a second that she was blinking away tears. 

“We’re always going to have your back, Steve,” she said finally. “But please don’t _ever_ pull anything like that again.”

“I make no promises,” Steve said, sighing. He was always a pragmatist about his own decision-making. “I’ll do my best though.”

“Well,” Nat shook her head at him, but she was smiling. “If that’s the best you can do, I guess we’ll take it.”

Steve shifted on the bed again and Tony narrowed his eyes.

“Are you on pain meds?” he asked Steve suddenly.

“Um,” Steve glanced up at the IV pole beside the bed. “Maybe?”

Tony stood up and walked to the other side of the room. Neither of the bags were pain medication. 

“What the actual hell?” Tony snapped, grabbing the TV remote from Steve’s bed and pressing the ‘call nurse’ button.

“Tony, it’s fine,” Steve sighed. “It’s not going to help much anyway.” 

“Alright, well I think Tony’s got this under control. Nat, you want to…?” Clint jerked his thumb toward the door.

“Yes,” she sighed and gave Steve a once-over. “Listen to him, okay?” she advised, eyes on Steve. “Believe it or not, he knows what he’s talking about with this stuff.”

Tony flushed slightly and turned his back on Nat and Clint to re-read the IV bags. They still weren’t pain meds. Go figure.

“I’m gathering that,” was Steve’s reply. Tony didn’t know what to do with that.

Nat leaned over and kissed Steve’s cheek again, her hand squeezing his good shoulder.

“Get some rest, Steve.”

Tony waited until they were almost out the door to call out to them. 

“Please don’t burn my tower down!”

“I’m sorry, what did you say?” Clint said loudly, pulling the door shut with a click.

Steve rolled his eyes. He looked up at Tony.

“I’m fine, you know.”

“You haven’t been comfortable since the second I walked in here,” Tony said. “Don’t bullshit me, Steve.”

“There’s nothing they can do—”

“Whoever told you that is a moron,” a female voice cut Steve off. Their nurse was back; Tony breathed a sigh of relief.

“I like her,” Tony said, grinning at the small woman with the black pixie haircut who’d just re-entered the room. 

“You should have told me you were in pain,” she said, glaring at Steve.

“It’s nothing I can’t handle.”

“You’re healing now, not fighting a battle,” she chastised. “You shouldn’t be ‘handling’ anything. Just resting.” She turned to look at Tony. “Do you know what we can give him in which doses?”

Tony reached into the bag Clint had left behind for him and pulled out a stack of papers.

“This is what we know about his metabolism,” Tony said. “You’re going to have to give him a dosage that probably would kill the average person.”

“Well, I guess I’m glad you came prepared with the facts. We’ll have him drugged up in no time.”

“Don’t I get a say in this?” Steve asked, sounding exasperated.

“No,” Tony and Steve’s nurse — Lisa, according to her name badge — replied at the same time. Tony smirked and added, “I _really_ like her.”

Steve groaned.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really wanted to take this chapter and run with the idea of Tony, being the genius that he is, also being kind of badass when it comes to emergency medicine. I mean, he got caught unprepared in Afghanistan and now his friends regularly put themselves in mortal danger. Would the Tony we know and love really not prep for the inevitable injuries? I think not. Let me know what you think! I'd love to hear if you agree or disagree.
> 
> I'm also sorry for the wait, it took me so much more time to write this than I would have anticipated. To make up for that, it's a long one!
> 
> In case anyone is questioning the whereabouts of our missing Avengers family members: Thor is either with Jane or in Asgard - who can keep track? And Bruce is helping contain an infectious disease outbreak in Asia. He'll be around soon.


	6. Life-Altering Realizations

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yes, this is what it sounds like in the chapter title ;). Buckle up, guys. These boys are starting to *realize* things.
> 
> Also, it's now somewhere in the middle of June 2013.

The day Steve realized he was probably a little more than half in love with Tony started the same way many of his days in the tower did. He woke up early, went for a run, jumped in the shower, and headed to put together some sort of breakfast. It couldn’t have been later than 8 a.m. by the time he made his way to the kitchen. 

And yet, when he arrived, it looked like Tony had been there for hours. He had music playing. Not his typical classic rock, either, but an upbeat jazz tune Steve didn’t recognize. He was bobbing his head to the music, all the while working on one of… by Steve’s count _three_ different breakfast dishes. 

One of the lesser-known facts about Tony: his genius wasn’t limited to mechanics, engineering, science, or even emergency medicine. He was exceptional at almost _anything_ he put his mind to, including cooking, which Tony claimed was, “essentially science.”

Steve hovered somewhat uncharacteristically in the hallway, a small smile on his face. He watched Tony dance from the bowl of whatever he was whisking at the counter to the stove where Steve could hear some sort of meat — sausages or bacon, perhaps? — sizzling in a frying pan. There was another pan on the stove as well. Tony peered into the oven, and Steve altered his count of the dishes Tony was making — it was apparently at least four. 

Steve enjoyed watching Tony in his element, and he’d never cared one way or the other if that happened in the workshop or the kitchen. This morning, though, Steve was particularly happy he’d get to start his day spending some time with Tony. It was wise not to waste time like that. 

With that in mind, Steve ambled into the kitchen. When Tony turned back from the stove to the counter, he spotted Steve.

“Thought you’d be back soon,” Tony said, smiling widely. He gestured at the food around him. “I’m making breakfast.”

“You don’t say?”

“Don’t sass me, Cap,” Tony rolled his eyes, whisking the bowl of eggs rapidly for a second longer. “I don’t have to share.”

Steve thought it was unnecessary to point out that if Tony was cooking for just himself he was drastically overestimating how much food he’d be eating. 

“Sorry,” he said, fighting to keep his lips pressed in a firm line.

Tony was staring straight at him and Steve knew he wasn’t buying a word of it. 

“You’re so full of shit, Steve,” Tony said, laughing loudly. “I don’t know how you convince anyone otherwise.”

Steve just shrugged and sat down on one of the stools at the counter.

“Is there an occasion I’m not aware of?” Steve asked lightly. He certainly didn’t mind this, but he’d like to know the reason if there were one.

“Nope. I was just waiting on you, figured I’d be productive.”

“You were waiting on me?” Steve’s brow furrowed. “You could have just called me, I would have come back sooner.”

“It’s nothing urgent,” Tony said, pulling down a third pan so he could start the eggs. “I just finished the new comms devices and I want your feedback.”

Tony said it so plainly, as if redesigning microtechnology for improved superhero communication was run-of-the-mill. Steve guessed, at least for Tony, it sort of was.

“That’s great, Tony.” Steve smiled at him, even though Tony was focused on the stove and couldn’t see Steve at all. “I’ll come down whenever you have time for me.”

“I figured if I caught you at breakfast we could mess around with the tech and the adjustments for the rest of the day. I don’t really have anything else I _have_ to work on today, so…” Tony trailed off, flipping the sausages in the pan. 

Steve recognized the offer for what it was. It was the closest Tony regularly got to taking an actual day off. And he was asking Steve to spend it with him. Steve felt warm all over, in a way he didn’t recognize. He usually ran warm — except for when he couldn’t get warm to save his life thanks to decades in the ice — but this wasn’t that. No, this was… a different, pleasant kind of warmth spreading throughout his chest.

“Sounds perfect,” Steve said. 

He was telling the truth. It sounded like the perfect day. Like his favorite kind of day, in fact. A day he got to spend with Tony doing —

And it was as simple as that. Steve realized he _had feelings for Tony_ at the exact same moment he realized his favorite days involved spending any kind of time with him. It was almost sad, if he were honest, that he hadn’t realized it sooner. 

Steve almost laughed; now, it was stupidly _obvious._ Of course he had feelings for Tony; of course he was attracted to him. 

It was as much of a fact of his life as the fact that he needed to consume at least 8,000 calories a day to function at an optimal level or the fact that he really only needed four hours of sleep a night, which was a blessing because of the nightmares.

“Cool,” Tony said, pulling Steve from his spiraling thoughts. Tony pulled the pan of sausages off the stove entirely and covered them with a lid. “I think the biggest challenge we’re going to have is with the volume. So I’ll see if you can hear it, and then I’ll have to test it to make sure that people with the ears of mere mortals can hear it too,” Tony babbled, absently. 

From what Steve could see, most of his focus was on the eggs he was scrambling with his left hand and the hash-browns he was flipping with his right. When the oven timer rang out, shrill and insistent, Tony jumped slightly. Both his hands were occupied, and Steve jumped in before Tony could try to puzzle his way through the situation. 

“I’ve got it,” Steve offered, coming around to stand near Tony. “Just tell me what to do.” 

“Do the muffins look golden brown on the top?”

Steve’s only frame of reference was the last batch of muffins Tony had made, and these looked about the same. 

“I think so.”

“Alright. Feel free to test them with that toothpick,” Tony tipped his chin toward the container of toothpicks sitting beside the sausage pan. “Just test one of the middle ones. If it comes out clean then they’re done and you can pull them out.”

Steve carefully performed the prescribed test and removed the muffin pan from the oven. 

“They smell great,” Steve said, squinting at the muffins. “Did you make blueberry ones for some reason?”

Steve loved blueberry muffins, but he knew Tony preferred chocolate chip, cinnamon pumpkin, or banana. These definitely looked and smelled like blueberry though.

Tony looked at him with a ‘really?’ in his eyes. 

“Yeah, Steve.” Tony rolled his eyes. “They’re for you. They’re your favorites, right?”

God _how_ had he not seen this sooner? That was the real question. He was so gone on Tony that blueberry muffins almost put him over the proverbial ‘edge’ and had him spilling his guts to Tony over a half-finished extravagant breakfast. All because Tony had taken the time to make _his favorite._

Steve thought that would be unwise for a number of reasons, not least of which because he didn’t want to ruin the day Tony planned out for them. 

“Yes,” Steve said, his voice giving away more than was probably safe, but not _too_ much he didn’t think. “Thank you.”

Tony didn’t say anything in response to that, but Steve saw that he was smiling and, well, that made two of them.

“Alright, well I think I’m done here,” Tony said, switching off the burners under the remaining two pans. “Let’s eat.”  

* * *

It was a little after 9:30 by the time they made it to the lab — Steve had insisted on cleaning the kitchen while Tony relaxed, which he’d begrudgingly agreed to do. 

Now, though, they were in the workshop, and Tony didn’t think something was… wrong with Steve, per se, but something was definitely _different_. Tony knew Steve, and ever since he’d surprised Steve with breakfast something had been just a little bit _off_. 

He didn’t want to ask. It wasn’t exactly his place to overanalyze Steve’s emotions. If Steve wanted to share, Tony was fairly certain he knew Tony would be there to listen. He knew what it was like to have people pry when you just wanted to be left alone; he didn’t want to do that to Steve.

“Tony?” Steve asked. He was waiting on a response. _Oops._

“Yeah? Sorry, I zoned out.”

“It’s fine. I was just saying I think once we work out these devices we might want to start thinking about other emergency precautions for everyone’s suits.”

“Sure,” Tony said.

Tony was happy to work on another project with Steve. Steve had good ideas; he was always thinking about ways to proactively protect his teammates, and Tony loved doing the actual engineering for said projects. Half the time they spent in the workshop involved brainstorming and testing prototypes. The other half Steve sat on the couch sketching while Tony worked, only pausing to force Tony to eat meals at semi-regular increments. 

“I can think of a few additions right off the top of my head that’ll get everyone sleeping a bit easier,” Tony mused, fiddling with a tiny connection of wires. 

He didn’t actually think everyone else had trouble sleeping. Tony, on the other hand, regularly shot out of bed, after dreaming about the endless and inevitable ways he failed his teammates or the entire world. On those days, in particular, he worked on things like this.

“Wonder what that must be like,” Steve said. It sounded like an attempt at wry humor, but it hit a little close to home. 

“Sleeping easy?” Tony asked though he didn’t really need clarification. “Definitely don’t ask me.”

“We’re quite a pair, aren’t we?” Steve said.

Tony hummed quietly in agreement, adjusting the volume in the comms devices.

It was things like this, Steve thought, that made him realize just how similar they were. Not necessarily in personality or background, but in shared experiences. They’ve both seen enough, albeit in two different ways, that they face similar challenges now. 

Personally, Steve thought Tony had been through worse than him. Steve may have lost the people he loved, but there was something about being betrayed and hurt by people you loved that stung more sharply than normal loss. It was difficult to mourn someone after they’d betrayed you. 

Steve counted himself lucky that he hadn’t experienced that.

He counted himself doubly lucky that he had the opportunity to prove to Tony that not everyone who cared about him, and not everyone he cared about, would betray him. He took it very seriously.

“Okay,” Tony spoke again, shaking him from his thoughts. He passed a tiny earpiece to Steve. “Let’s get to work. I need you to tell me when you can hear JARVIS speaking to you.”  

* * *

They were in the lab until late in the day. Tony ordered lunch that was brought directly to the lab, and he’d given Steve some snacks later in the afternoon, but even with all that his super soldier metabolism had him ready for dinner by five. Tony knew it, of course. He’d figured out Steve wasn’t eating enough early on in their friendship and had made it a point ever since to insist Steve eat whenever he had the chance. 

So, naturally, he’d started urging Steve to go upstairs and eat as soon as he knew Steve was hungry. Odds were, someone had made dinner in the communal kitchen and food would be up for grabs. 

But Steve knew the minute he went upstairs to get dinner, this part of their day would be over. Even if Tony came with him, it wouldn’t _just_ be him and Tony. It was late enough that others would be in the living room or kitchen — which was nice, but in a different way — and they’d get pulled into a movie night or Mario Kart tournament.

He wasn't complaining about that, not at all. He loved his teammates and the time he was able to spend with them. However, he’d just realized he felt… more strongly about Tony than his other teammates. Steve was reluctant to give up this one-on-one time with him.

He stretched it another two hours by making excuses, and repeatedly saying, “I’m not that hungry, I can wait a while.” 

In the end, he managed to distract Tony until 7:30, at which point Tony closed the schematics, pulled the tablet away from Steve, and stared at him with nothing but challenge in his eyes.

“Alright, that’s it.” Tony’s hands fidgeted slightly before he started putting his tools away. Steve suspected that was more so Tony had something to do than from the need for cleanliness, which he didn’t seem to possess. “I know you’re starving, Steve. Come on, we’re having dinner.”

Steve shrugged as if he hadn’t been postponing dinner for hours. 

“Alright, sure.”

Tony rolled his eyes, grabbed Steve by the arm, and proceeded to tow him up the stairs and into the kitchen.

“Hey, Tony,” Natasha said, smiling. “Hey, Steve. What have you guys been up to today?”

Tony was already poking around the kitchen to investigate their food options. Steve hung back by the entryway, answering Natasha.

“We were working on the new comms units. Then we started on an improved tracking and biometrics scanning system for Clint’s arrows.” He smiled as Tony lit up and mouthed the word “yay!” to Steve, proud that he’d discovered half a homemade pizza on the counter beside the stove. 

“Don’t forget,” Tony jumped in, looking from Steve to Natasha. “We also started talking about creating a remotely triggered total shutdown for the widow bites. It’d be built into the sleeve of your suit and controlled by your fingerprint. Thoughts?”

“It’s an interesting concept,” Natasha said, staring out the window thoughtfully. “It’d be useful if anyone ever tried to use them against me somehow. Not sure the fingerprint control would be enough…”

“Yeah, that’s what Steve and I were thinking, too. Like I said, we were just talking about it. Early stages.”

Steve didn’t think it was important to mention to Nat that while Steve had talked about ideas for an hour or so Tony had drawn up three separate sets of schematics in varying degrees of detail. They’d spent most of their time talking about the activation method to trigger the shutdown, and Tony had a few ideas he wanted to work on before rolling it out to Nat in any official capacity.

“Alright,” Nat nodded ever so slightly. “Well let me know when it gets past talk and I’ll come check it out.” She glanced from Tony to the pizza. “And, before you ask, that one’s all yours.”

“Thanks Nat,” Tony was already putting one piece on a plate for himself and sticking it in the microwave. Tony _hated_ cold pizza, oddly enough. Steve normally thought of him as someone who would eat pretty much anything, but apparently there were pizza standards for Tony. Tony slid the rest of the pizza toward Steve. “It would actually taste better if you heated it in the oven,” he suggested.

“You’re probably right,” Steve said before taking a bite of a room-temp slice.

“You disgust me,” Tony said without any real heat.

“Unlike you, _I’m_ low maintenance.”

“You’re _uncultured_ is what you are. Cold pizza should be a crime.”

“It isn’t even cold! It’s room temperature, at worst.”

“Heathen.”

“Drama queen.”

“If you two are finished,” Nat cut in after a beat of silence, smirking widely. “Bruce and I are showing Clint Operation.”

“Like… the board game?” Tony asked, eyebrows raised. The microwave dinged and he retrieved his pizza happily. 

“Yep,” Nat confirmed. “He mentioned he’d never played.”

Tony froze for half a second and then practically exploded.

“How in the hell do people I associate with _not_ know how to play Operation?” he shouted into the living room, making a beeline for Bruce and Clint who were leaning over the coffee table.

Steve smiled widely at Tony’s indignant outburst, and watched him leave the kitchen. When he glanced back at Nat he knew he’d been staring a moment too long. His cheeks flared red, bright with embarrassment. 

Natasha simply pressed her lips together as if to suppress a smile, and quirked her eyebrow ever so slightly.

“Oh don’t give me that look,” Steve huffed, rolling his eyes. “I get it now, all right? I understand.”

“You do?”

“Yes, yes,” Steve chuckled softly at himself. “I may be one of the last ones to realize, but I’m not totally oblivious to my feelings.”

“Aren’t you?”

“In my defense,” Steve said. “I _literally_ grew up in a time when men repressed all emotions. _Especially_ their feelings for _other men._ ”

Nat exhaled sharply in a half-laugh. 

“Fair enough.”

“It’s a wonder I’m not the official poster boy for internalized homophobia. So I think I’m doing all right, even if I’m a little slow with the life-altering realizations.” 

“Point taken,” Natasha said, pulling a Snickers bar out of the freezer and unwrapping it carefully. “So… are you going to tell him?”

“No, I don’t think so,” Steve said, thoughtfully.

“What? Why not?”

“It would change things. And it would ask a lot of him. He… Tony doesn’t have many close friends. I wouldn’t want to make him feel like one of his friendships was in jeopardy.”

“What do you mean?”

“I know Tony. If I told him, he’d probably think he would lose me, and all of you, too, if he didn’t agree to be with me, or something. His friendship with each of you means more to him than you guys realize. Not to mention, my friendship with him means a lot to me. I don’t want to put him in an uncomfortable position.”

“But what if you got everything you wanted, on top of being his friend?” Nat said, eyes soft and voice serious.

Steve just shrugged, smiling as Tony expertly maneuvered the tethered red tweezers into the Operation board and retrieved one of the small white pieces without setting off the buzzer. Tony’s hands might shake during panic attacks, but he really was steady as a surgeon when he worked. 

Steve spent too much of his time watching Tony’s hands as he worked.

Really, how he hadn’t recognized his feelings sooner was beyond him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So? What do you think? I hope I'm doing them justice! It felt right to me that Steve would realize how he was feeling first, but let me know if you agree or disagree. 
> 
> Any predictions about how they're going to finally get together? It's coming up soon, and I'd love to hear any guesses you guys have :).
> 
> Thanks for reading! I love you guys!


	7. More Realizations and Inevitable Misunderstandings

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go, Tony is starting to catch up :).

The day Tony realized he had feelings for Steve he… well, _he_ didn’t actually realize it. In true Tony fashion, someone else had to point out his feelings to him. 

He’d been working in the shop for upwards of ten hours when Pepper waltzed in, hands filled with a clipboard, tablet, and file folder filled with Very Important Documents. She settled onto the couch and spread out her work. Tony checked the clock — it wasn’t even noon yet. He didn’t know what she was doing here, but he didn't question it.

“Tony, you have a flight in four hours,” she informed him, tone patient as ever.

“What?” He looked up from his project to find Pepper diligently signing documents and only paying him half her attention. “No, I don’t.”

“Yes, you do. I put it on your calendar two months ago. June 25th through the 6th. There’s a factory opening in Shanghai and then there are a couple expos and tech-sharing presentations that you’re scheduled to attend.”

“ _Two weeks?_ ” Tony knew for a _fact_ that wasn’t going to work. He had plans on the 4th. He’d spent weeks arranging everyone’s schedules and _he_ wasn’t about to be the one with the conflict. “Nope. Not going to work. We have to shorten that.”

“Really, Tony?” Pepper asked, exasperated.

“Yes.”

“Well, it might work,” Pepper started, brows furrowed as she abandoned her paperwork and picked up her tablet. “If you don’t want to go to the last exhibition, you could be back by the 4th, maybe…” she trailed off, tapping on her tablet. “Wait. _Why?_ ”

“That’s better,” Tony said, deciding it made more sense to fight her on the final two days rather than the whole trip. It wasn't ideal, but it would work. “Let’s change that.”

“Tony,” Pepper was staring at him strangely. Her lips twitched in a way that meant she was holding back a smile. “Why can’t we just keep things the way they are?”

“That’s just a long time to be away. There could be a call to do some Avenging, and I don’t like being away from the tower for that long. Not to mention I’ve got projects going on here and —”

Pepper clicked through windows on her tablet, eyes darting from Tony to the screen and back. She laughed, lightly.

“— and you have something planned for the 4th, evidently.” She flipped the tablet around so he could see that she’d pulled up his personal calendar. He knew he’d regret blocking off that entire day.

“Well, yeah,” he said as if it were obvious. He turned so his back was to Pepper. “It’s Steve’s birthday.”

“Oh?”

“Mmhmm,” Tony hummed, carefully returning to his task of dismantling the circuit board. He needed to modify it for it to work the way he wanted it to.

“And what exactly does that mean?” Pepper pressed. Tony could hear the smile in her voice; that was concerning.

“It means we’re all going to make an attempt to, you know, _be here._ ”

“At Steve’s request?”

“Of course not,” Tony scoffed. “He would never ask anyone to go out of their way for him—”

“Oh, Tony,” Pepper sighed, still _obviously_ smiling.

“What?” he snapped. He was sick of feeling like he was missing an obvious joke.

“Nothing,” she stood up, abandoning her things that were sprawled out along the couch. She put a hand on his shoulder and pulled him around to face her. She was smiling fondly now. “I think it’s incredibly thoughtful what you’re doing for him.”

“I’m not—”

“You did,” she disagreed, softly. “Didn’t you?”

“Maybe,” Tony admitted, staring at Pepper’s navy heels. “A little.”

“Does Steve know how you feel about him?”

_God I hope not,_ was Tony’s first thought followed immediately by, _How could he?_ I _didn’t even know until you started smiling in that all-knowing way of yours._

“I don’t think so,” he said, instead.

“Well, that’s a shame,” Pepper said, shaking her head. Before Tony could ask what she meant by that, she squeezed his shoulder and turned to gather her things. “I’ll adjust your itinerary,” she promised. “You’ll be back in time for his birthday.”

“Thanks, Pep.”

Pepper hesitated by the door to the stairway.

“You know, he was upstairs when I came down,” she said, grinning wickedly. “Just flipping channels on the couch. If you wanted to, I don’t know, have lunch with him before you leave…”

“Pepper.”

“I’m just saying,” she said, one hand raised in surrender while the other clutched the stack of papers and her tablet to her chest. “Fly safe, Tony.”

“Thank you.”

If he immediately chose to ask JARVIS to order food and just _happened_ to order enough to share with Steve when she left, well. That was nobody’s business but his. Besides, he was about to leave for a little over a week. If he wanted to see his friend before he left, he thought that was normal enough. 

* * *

Three countries and several days later, Tony was back in New York. 

“Where’s the boyfriend, Rogers?” was the first thing Tony heard when he stepped foot off the elevator onto the 100th floor of the Avengers Tower. 

And, well, that wasn’t something Tony was prepared to hear. 

He probably should have expected it, though, honestly. Naturally, he’d realize his feelings for Steve in time to discover Steve was already with someone else, which wouldn’t have even _mattered_ because it wasn’t like Steve was even remotely interested in him.

Tony paused, lurking in the hallway awkwardly. He was shamelessly eavesdropping now, no two ways about it. He was fairly certain Clint had been speaking before, and he was waiting to hear Steve’s response.

Instead, Natasha cut in.

“Oh, leave him alone,” she said, laughing and lighthearted. “It’s his birthday.” 

“He’s 95 years old,” Clint teased. “Maybe he can’t even hear me.”

“I assure you that I can,” Steve said, his voice full of the dry humor Tony loved so much. He didn’t understand how people could think Steve wasn’t funny — he absolutely was, if you were listening for it. “And I’m not sure. He said he’d make it. He texted before he got on the plane, but I haven’t heard anything since.”

So the boyfriend wasn’t from around here. That was interesting considering Tony couldn’t remember Steve ever taking trips out of town for anything other than SHIELD missions. But… he supposed Steve could have been lying about the missions? That made absolutely zero sense, though, considering Clint and Natasha seemed to know all about the mystery man in question. Unless Steve _only_ wanted to keep it from Tony. And that didn’t make any sense unless he knew about Tony’s feelings and was too nice to bring it up around him.

Well. That was unacceptable. If Tony did one thing today he was going to make sure Steve knew that he was fine with his boyfriend. Especially if that meant Steve could have the perfect birthday. Tony could do that. Of course he could. 

Tony slipped into his room without making his presence known. He needed to change out of his day-old plane clothes, and wash his face. Mostly, he needed to gear-up for the day. His expectations had drastically changed somewhere between arriving at the tower at 8:03 a.m. and reaching his room at 8:07.

He pulled on a clean pair of jeans and a fresh button-down that could easily pass for casual, but could also become formal if he put on a jacket. 

“JARVIS, can you give me the rundown of who is currently here?” 

“So far Agent Romanoff, Agent Barton, Captain Rogers, and Dr. Banner are in the kitchen, awaiting your arrival.”

“Anyone else on the way?”

“Not to my knowledge, sir.”

“But, I heard—”

“Have I not warned you against eavesdropping, repeatedly?” JARVIS asked, sounding remarkably like his namesake. 

“Alright, enough out of you,” Tony muttered at the nagging AI.

He left his room and breezed down the hall, entering the kitchen to find Steve, Natasha, and Clint enjoying breakfast, which Bruce was happily cooking to order.

“Morning all,” he said loudly, eyes on Steve. He couldn't help it.

Steve looked up at him and his face broke into the biggest, most genuine smile Tony could ever remember seeing on him. 

Now, that just wasn’t fair. Steve couldn’t be in a relationship with someone else and look at Tony _like that_. It made Tony’s heart beat erratically; he had enough heart problems already.

“You made it,” Steve said, his grin not fading in the slightest as he turned on his barstool to face Tony. Tony stepped closer to him.

“Of course I did,” Tony said. “I told you I would.” 

“Well yeah, but,” Steve shrugged. “Things happen.”

Tony shook his head. “Not when Pepper’s involved in the planning.” He was close enough to reach out and touch Steve now, so he did. It was what he’d been planning to do anyway, and nothing needed to change. 

“Happy Birthday, Steve.” He pulled Steve into a hug that Steve returned with force.

“Thank you,” Steve said, breaking away. 

“Hungry?” Bruce asked from the stove. “I’ve got plenty of food.”

“Sure,” Tony agreed, plopping down on the empty seat next to Steve. 

“How was the flight?” Steve asked, as Bruce put a plate of bacon, eggs and toast down in front of Tony. Steve pushed the butter toward him.

“It was alright,” Tony lied. He’d been anxious the entire flight about getting back in time for Steve’s birthday. He shouldn’t have worried so much. “A little turbulent.” That much was true.

Steve was watching him closely, and Tony knew he didn’t quite buy it. In an attempt to cover whatever Steve could see in his expression, Tony dug into his food.

“I can’t believe you’re 95,” Clint said, breaking the silence that had settled in the kitchen.

Steve laughed.

“Yeah, neither can I,” he said around a smile. “Might have something to do with the fact that a little more than a year ago that I was celebrating my 27th birthday.”

Natasha smiled and shook her head. 

“That’s got to be so weird,” she said.

“It is, I guess,” Steve shrugged. “But I think I’m kind of used to it. Or I’m getting there, at least.”

Natasha leaned over and pressed her shoulder into Steve’s in a silent show of support.

“So,” Tony broke in, curiosity getting the best of him. “What’s on the agenda for today?”

“Well the birthday boy’s only requests were watching the baseball game at noon and spending time together as a team,” Natasha informed him dutifully. “So we were thinking we’d do breakfast, obviously, then maybe watch some TV and just relax. Then the game, and after that we could grill dinner on the roof, enjoy the sunset and all that.”

Tony nodded. It sounded exactly like what he’d imagined Steve’s ideal birthday would be.

“What about presents?” Tony asked, curious. “We could do those after breakfast.”

He only made the suggestion because he suspected Steve might want to put his gift to use sometime this morning. At least, part of it.

“Works for me,” Natasha agreed, easily. “Mine should be here sometime soon.”

Steve looked from Tony to Natasha, clearly confused. 

“You guys didn’t have to get me anything,” he said, entirely genuine. “I’m just glad you’re here.”

“Oh, please,” Clint said, rubbing his hands together. He pushed his plate away, and stood up. “Presents are _easily_ one of the best parts of birthdays.”

“Where is he going?” Steve asked, watching Clint disappear down the hall.

“To get your present, I’m guessing,” Natasha replied, with a sigh.

Two minutes later, Clint came back into the kitchen with two wrapped presents in tow. Clint thrust the smaller of the two packages at Steve, fidgeting with excitement. Steve had finished eating and seemed content with humoring Clint and opening his first present.

“There’s no card,” Clint said. 

Steve laughed. “That’s perfectly all right.”

Steve pulled back the wrapping paper slowly, obviously hesitant to rip into it despite knowing that was what wrapping paper was designed for. Once he revealed the object, a book it looked like, Steve started moving a bit quicker. 

“This is…” he said, voice soft and surprised. Tony peered over Steve’s shoulder to get a better look. From what he could tell it looked like a photo album. The front cover had “Photos” written on it in big, block letters. Underneath that it read, “Avengers’ Craziness.” The photos on the front were memorable, and Tony wasn’t even sure who’d taken them. One was of the six of them — Thor included — eating shawarma inside that beat up, but reliable restaurant after the Chitauri attack. The other was of Natasha, Steve, and Tony all doubled over in laughter at something Clint or Bruce had said. Again, Tony didn’t remember the picture being taken. 

Steve opened the book and found it filled with image after image of them doing different things, as a team. Tony quickly realized that at least a few of the pictures were definitely taken by JARVIS or, rather, the security cameras installed throughout the house. Others, however, were absolutely snapped on phones. They might have been stolen off social media or taken by one of the Avengers themselves, but they were all real moments and Tony remembered almost all of the ones he was in.

“It’s cheesy, I know,” Clint said, shrugging. “But I figured—”

“It’s perfect, Clint,” Steve said, smiling. “Thank you.”

“It seemed like something you’d like.”

“It’s really great,” Steve said, still flipping through pages. “I can’t wait to look at it all.” He seemed to remember there was more and that Clint seemed a little uncomfortable with everyone in the room admiring his thoughtful gift-giving. 

“This one is much more fun,” Clint added as he handed over the second, larger package. 

Steve tore into it, revealing that it was a box containing five mini marshmallow shooters. Tony had to laugh at that. 

“Oh this is going to be fun,” Natasha said, grinning wickedly.

“God help me,” Tony laughed. A super soldier, the hulk, and two assassins. He was toast if this came to a marshmallow war.

Steve had scanned the packaging and quickly put two and two together. He laughed.

“Don’t worry,” Steve elbowed Tony. “We can be on the same team.”

Damn if that didn’t sound insanely _couple-y_ to Tony. He _knew_ — was absolutely certain now, in fact — that Steve hadn’t meant anything by it. For some reason that didn’t seem to help. 

“Oh good,” Tony said, half a beat slower than normal. He figured it would be unlikely that Steve would notice, especially with his new presents in mind. 

Hell, if Steve hadn’t questioned him on the day he realized his feelings, Tony thought he could get away with quite a lot. That day before he left had been… well Tony thought it had been glaringly obvious that he’d just made a huge discovery about his feelings for Steve. But Steve hadn’t seemed to notice anything out of the ordinary despite Tony appearing out of nowhere with two bags full of Chinese food and a request that they eat lunch together. Granted, it’d been Steve’s idea to eat on the roof — _“It’s a nice day, so why not, you know?”_ — which was what _really_ made the entire thing feel more romantic than it needed to in Tony’s opinion. 

That had been over a week ago, though, and Steve was seeing someone else. Clearly, Tony had been projecting.

“This is really great, Clint,” Steve said, pulling Tony back to the present. “Thank you.”

“Sure thing, Cap. Happy birthday.”

“Guess I’m next,” Bruce said, holding a box made of dark wood in his hands. A bow was on the corner. He slid it across the counter to Steve.

Always one to be polite, Steve started with the note attached to the top. Tony was decidedly _not_ nosily reading over his shoulder, so he didn’t quite understand the entire gift. But he could recognize that the box, which had eight compartments, was filled with a variety of Steve’s favorite teas. 

“Thank you,” Steve said. “And I’m going to hold you to that trip.”

“Just name a day,” Bruce vowed, offering a small smile.

“Be right back,” Tony stood up and squeezed Steve’s shoulder. He walked to his room and pulled the big box out from under his bed. He was about to leave his room when JARVIS interrupted.

“Are you expecting a Sam Wilson today, sir?” JARVIS asked.

“Um—” Tony was about to answer in the negative when someone rapped twice on his door. He opened it to find Natasha on the other side, her eyes flashing mischievously.

“Is he here?” she asked, not quite grinning but also not _not_ grinning. 

“Oh. You know Sam Wilson?” That would make sense. The boyfriend.

“Who do you think invited him?” Natasha said back, happily. “You can let him up, I’ve checked him out.”

That sounded like Natasha. It only made sense that she’d vet Steve’s love interests thoroughly.

Tony nodded and then started down the hall, but Natasha grabbed his wrist.

“Why do you look like I just told you I’m about to bail on Steve’s birthday or something?” she asked, brows furrowed.

“I don’t,” he sighed, trying to school his features. “I’m fine.” 

Natasha narrowed her eyes at him, clearly not buying it. 

“Whatever,” she sighed. “Just _don’t_ let Steve catch on, okay? Sam is a surprise and if you blow that then I don’t have a present for him.”

Tony had to fight a shiver at the thought of blowing Natasha’s surprise. Which, the more he thought about it, made _no sense_ because Steve had been talking about texting the boyfriend — Sam, he had a name now — before he’d gotten on the plane. So obviously Steve knew he was coming. Right?

Tony shook his head, and decided not to overthink it. It wasn’t really any of his business anyway.

He re-entered the kitchen to find that it had already descended into mayhem. He and Natasha had left, abandoning Clint, Bruce, and Steve to their own devices. Evidently that meant an all-out marshmallow war commenced _immediately_. Tony couldn’t help laughing as he deposited his gift on the counter. 

“Tony!” Steve called, smiling. “I swear I’ll open your gift in just a second—” he was cut off by a marshmallow clipping the top of his head. He ducked back down behind the couch. “Grab a gun and help me!” Steve said, laughing. 

Tony couldn’t exactly say no to that. 

He held his own surprisingly well in the ten-minute battle that ensued. Sometimes people forgot that Tony had started out as a weapons manufacturer. It meant he knew how to use guns, and was also pretty damn good with them. His aim was accurate, and apparently that translated to marshmallows.

Against just Clint and Bruce, he and Steve were pretty evenly matched. Unfortunately, when Natasha came back to the kitchen, grabbed a gun, and joined the chaos going down in the living room it became clear they stood no chance. In fact, Natasha seemed to be playing her own side, and she’d managed to hit everyone twice, despite the guys’ various shields, evasive maneuvers, and hastily-constructed forts, before declaring, “Fight’s over boys, we’ve got company.” 

She laughed and then added, “And I just kicked your asses.”

No one really had a response to that, so they abandoned their marshmallow shooters on the floor — Steve must have been having a great day if he wasn’t worried about leaving things out — and tried to collect themselves. 

Tony was really one of the only Avengers who could be considered dressed for the day. Steve was wearing a t-shirt and cotton pajama pants. Clint was wearing sweats and a sleeveless exercise top. Natasha was completely put together in pajamas that could be day clothes, but that was _Natasha,_ and Bruce was wearing, more or less, the exact same thing as Steve.

When Tony looked at Steve, he was grinning from ear to ear, his eyes bright. Tony couldn’t resist smiling at that.

“What’s this about company?” Steve asked, taking a sip of the orange juice he’d abandoned on the counter when the battle began. 

“Surprise,” an unfamiliar voice said from the hallway. “I come with beer and the hope that my presence counts as a present.”

Steve’s head jerked toward the sound, eyes wide.

The man, Sam, stepped forward into the living room to join the rest of them. He was smiling easily and did, in fact, have a case of beer in one hand.

“Sam?” Steve asked, stepping forward. Tony knew Steve well enough to recognize the earnest shock in his tone. “What on earth are you doing here?”

“I invited him,” Natasha chimed in, standing to Steve’s right. “Hopefully that counts as my present.”

Steve laughed happily.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Yes, of course it does. This is amazing. Thank you,” he said to Natasha before turning to Sam. “And thank you for coming. You really didn't have to.”

“I got an all-expense-paid trip to your birthday party,” Sam said, easily as he stepped forward to give Steve a quick hug. “I wasn’t going to miss it.”

“Can’t miss Captain America’s birthday party?” Steve teased, laughing.

“No, I’m pretty sure this is Steve’s party,” Sam said, as if it were that simple. “Just based on the marshmallow disaster going on here.”

Steve laughed, head thrown back. There was definitely a faint blush on Steve’s cheeks. Damn, Tony couldn’t even bring himself to hate Sam if he really, truly cared about Steve the way it seemed like he did based on this interaction alone. He clearly knew how important it was to make the distinction between wanting to be around _Steve_ and wanting to be around a living legend. 

Steve stepped aside to give Natasha a hug that she reciprocated warmly. Tony wasn’t certain, but he thought Natasha said something to Steve in a voice soft enough that no one else could hear because when he stepped back and released Nat there was a faint blush on his cheeks.

Steve made quick work of introducing Sam to the rest of his friends. Tony was intrigued by the fact that he introduced Sam as “my friend from D.C.” but he supposed it wasn’t really any of his business. He shook Sam’s hand, and considered offering him a room in the tower for the night, before realizing he’d probably be staying with Steve and that would make things awkward for everyone involved.

“Are you hungry?” Bruce asked after greeting Sam. “We’ve got breakfast still.”

“Oh, sure,” Sam said, heading for the kitchen counter.

Everyone trailed behind him, reclaiming their seats at the counter. Steve relinquished his original place to Sam, however, meaning he took Tony’s place for himself. Tony tried not to let that sting.

“Oh, hey,” Natasha said, getting everyone’s attention. She was staring at the box Tony had left on the counter. “You still have one present left, Steve.”

Tony grabbed it and rounded the counter to stand beside Steve. He passed Steve the box.

“Happy birthday,” Tony grinned. “There’s no card because it’ll be easier for me to just explain.”

“Okay,” Steve agreed, tearing into the box. Because Tony was Tony, he’d wrapped each of the gifts individually inside a larger box. Steve laughed when he caught on to what Tony had done. 

When he finally got to the first package, Tony tried not to fidget nervously. Steve tore into the package revealing 12 perfectly sharpened colored pencils, and twelve regular lead pencils. They looked entirely normal, aside from the fact that Tony had stored them all in a metal case with a transparent plastic lid. Steve looked up at Tony.

“I figured out a way to reinforce them,” Tony explained. “It’s a similar mix of the gold-titanium alloy I use in the suit, actually. But essentially, it should make them super soldier proof.” Tony hoped Steve knew what he meant. Steve sketched around Tony often enough for him to know that Steve was forever snapping pencils simply because he forgot his own strength when he got absorbed in his art. “And I can make them pretty easily now, so you don’t have to try to conserve those or anything. Consider it a lifetime supply.”

“Wow,” Steve looked up at Tony, eyes wide. “Thank you. These are… perfect, really. I didn’t even know that was possible.”

“It was no trouble,” Tony said. 

“I highly doubt that,” Steve looked at Tony skeptically. 

Tony looked away, and caught Natasha staring at him strangely. He didn’t like that either, so he looked back at Steve, who had started unwrapping the second package. When he revealed the notebooks he laughed. There were two books, both bound in sturdy brown leather. One was lined, the other was blank.

“I know the lined one is what you had back in the war,” Tony said. “But I had to get you at least on one that was unlined.”

Steve laughed again, putting the books on the counter beside the pencils with extreme care, as if something might happen to them. He ripped open the last thing more quickly, freezing when the paper pulled away to reveal his old friends. For a heartbeat, Tony was worried he’d monumentally screwed up. 

“Oh my god, Tony,” Steve breathed, pushing the paper aside to reveal the simple frame. Tony had gone with brown wood, because it seemed neutral and classic, like something Steve might pick himself. “How did you even find this?”

“It was in a box of my dad’s old things,” Tony admitted. “I don’t think this one ever got published anywhere. So I thought maybe you’d never seen it.”

“I hadn’t,” Steve confirmed. “But I remember taking it.” He smiled at the memory. Tony imagined it was a good one. 

In the photo, Steve and Bucky were laughing, along with nearly everyone else in the photo. One of the commandos — Dugan, Tony thought — seemed upset because it looked like the others had stolen his hat, but the exasperation was obviously fond.

Steve gently put the frame on the counter beside the other presents and stood up, turning to face Tony. Before Tony could get a word out, Steve had pulled him into a hug. It was his second of the day, but Tony certainly wasn’t complaining. 

“Thank you,” Steve repeated. “That means so much to me.”

Tony just nodded, and resisted the urge to press himself closer when Steve stepped away to return to his seat.

Steve surveyed the counter which was covered in his presents and laughed. 

“I should probably put these away,” Steve said, a little sheepish. “But seriously, thanks guys. I—I can’t even tell you what this all means to me.”

He collected the tea box, the photo album, the picture frame, and one of the two notebooks in his arms before heading for his room.

When he closed the door Natasha let out a breath, scanning everyone in the room.

“Not bad team,” she said, with a note of pride in her tone. “Not bad.”

Tony couldn't help but agree with her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Don't hate me! *hides* 
> 
> I promise I won't keep them apart for much longer, but just hear me out -- as much as I love our couple dearly, they're imperfect. And Tony of all people is unwilling to believe he deserves good things. So I thought it made sense to have him spiral out a bit. 
> 
> But... What do you think? I'd love to hear your feedback.
> 
> I love you all, thanks for reading!
> 
> **Edited note**
> 
> I wanted to give you all a clear list of the team's gifts to Steve because some were less clear than others. So here goes:
> 
> Natasha: invited Sam, promised not to set Steve up anymore
> 
> Tony: reinforced pencils (that Tony can mass-produce as needed), a sketchbook like the ones he had in the war, and a framed picture of Steve and the Howling Commandos that Tony had found when searching through his father’s collection of Captain America memorabilia
> 
> Clint: A Shutterfly photo album of the team’s adventures since they began living together — including all the tower antics, the missions, and one memorable trip to Coney Island. Also, five mini marshmallow shooters because why not?
> 
> Bruce: a box of Steve’s favorite teas, and a card with a promise to take Steve to Little India and show him the places to buy the types of tea he likes best.


	8. Fireworks

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve's birthday, part 2! Yes, feel free to read into the title as much as you'd like ;).

They spent the morning watching reruns of Friends. Well, Steve wasn't really watching at all. He was busily sketching, putting his gifts to good use from his spot beside Tony on the couch. Sam was sitting on the floor in front of Steve and Tony, and the two were catching up. Based on their conversation, they apparently hadn’t seen each other in months — hadn’t even _talked_ in weeks. 

Tony was genuinely confused. It didn’t seem to make any sense; they were together, but they hadn’t even spoken in almost a month? Even _Tony_ wasn’t that bad about relationships, and he was world-renowned for not being good at relationships.

Steve laughed at something Sam said. Tony looked first at Steve and then at Sam. They seemed like a good match, more or less. They were both friendly and genuinely _good_ people in Tony’s opinion. Granted, he’d only known Sam for five minutes, but Steve was a good judge of character. More than that, passing a Natasha Romanoff background check was all but a guarantee of pure intentions. 

By 10:45, Tony was already thinking about lunch. Not so much because he was hungry — he wasn’t, they’d had a ridiculously large breakfast at a little after 8 — but because he knew Steve was, or would be very shortly. 

Tony nudged his knee into Steve’s to get the other man’s attention. Steve turned to him, smiling and holding up the page in his notebook that he’d been working on. 

“Check it out,” he said, displaying what was clearly an incredibly accurate and detailed sketch of the arc reactor. 

Tony wasn’t sure what he thought Steve had been working on for the past hour or so, but that certainly wasn’t it. 

“Wow, Steve,” Tony said quietly. “That’s amazing.”

“Thanks,” Steve looked down at the notebook, smiling softly. “These really are perfect,” he said twirling the pencil in his hand. “But, um. Anyway. You had a question for me?”

Right. Tony had been trying to get him to talk about lunch. 

“Just wanted to know what you want for lunch,” Tony said with a shrug. “We don’t have to order or make anything now if you’re not hungry, but I figured you might be getting there…”

“Yeah,” Steve said, closing his notebook and leaning back into the cushions. “I could eat.”

Which, for Steve, meant he was actually incredibly hungry but was too stubborn to say anything about it. _Idiot,_ Tony thought, the insult weak with his fondness for Steve.

“What are you in the mood for?” Tony asked, watching as Steve closed his eyes and tapped the arm of the couch with his left hand. He seemed to think about it for the span of about thirty seconds before deciding it didn’t really matter.

“You know what?” Steve said, eyes flashing mischievously. “Surprise me.”

_He really has no right to sound so flirtatious when he says things,_ Tony thought, sadly. 

“Will do,” Tony agreed, a smile coming to him easier than expected. He grabbed his phone and typed in a few commands to JARVIS, who immediately placed the order Tony asked him to. He also ordered food for everyone else because, well, Tony knew what they liked and in all honesty he was probably the only person in the room who _wasn’t_ getting hungry yet. He was a regular guy, but everyone else here wasn’t, exactly. And even though he didn’t exactly know Sam’s order, he got a few different things for him to choose from and hoped for the best.

Twenty minutes later Tony was ushering in a delivery guy from the team’s favorite sub shop. He was struggling to carry their order, which all in all wasn't that surprising.

He dropped it on the counter and Tony paid him, giving him two hundred dollar bills that more than covered their order and the tip.

“Lunch is here,” Tony said collecting the subs he’d ordered for Steve and hand-delivering them so he didn't have to get off the couch and potentially miss some of the first inning of the game that’d just started.

“Thanks Tony,” Steve said with one of those smiles that made Tony’s heart stutter.

“Sure thing, birthday boy,” he replied, pleased that his voice didn't waver.

Steve glanced away from the TV long enough to look over at Tony.

“You’re not eating?” he asked, brows furrowed in confusion and concern.

“Nah, not yet,” Tony waved him off. “I’m not hungry right now.”

On any other day, Tony thought Steve might have followed-up on that, but today was his birthday and someone on one of the teams — Tony didn’t really follow baseball — had just hit a home run. Sam called out a loud “hell yeah!” which Steve laughed at, and seemingly forgot the exchange with Tony entirely.

With Natasha, on the other hand, Tony wasn’t so lucky. When two o’clock rolled around Tony was actually starting to get hungry, and he figured it was about time to bring in the next round of food. He asked JARVIS to order a pizza. Well, he asked for four pizzas, because he figured Steve could go for another meal but would never ask for it.

Natasha eyed him speculatively from the fridge where she was refilling her glass of lemonade. 

“I know what you’re doing,” she said, without warning.

“I wasn’t aware I was doing anything.” 

“Bullshit,” she said. She was smiling in a way that made Tony more than a little uneasy. “It’s adorable.” There was a beat of silence between them. “He’ll never realize, you know,” Natasha said, finally. 

“That’s kind of the idea, considering.” Tony shrugged. He didn’t think it was necessary totack on _he has a boyfriend_.

“You should tell him.”

“Uh. No, thanks,” Tony shook his head. “I’ll pass on that.” 

“Tony.”

“Natasha.”

“Fine,” she sighed, sounding as tired as Tony had ever heard her. She turned to return the pitcher of lemonade to the fridge. Tony swore he heard something that sounded like _idiots_ but he couldn’t be certain.

When she turned away from the fridge to face Tony again her face was wiped clean and entirely devoid of the teasing from seconds earlier. As she stepped past Tony, though, she reached out and squeezed his upper arm gently. He thought it was meant to be a show of support, which was… oddly sweet.

Tony walked back into the living room with the boxes of pizza balanced on his arm. 

“I got snacks,” he announced, dumping them on the coffee table. “Help yourselves.”

Predictably, Steve dug into the meat lovers pizza.

“You know I didn’t even calculate,” Sam said, which was when Tony realized this was a commercial break. Must be between innings. “How old _are_ you?”

That just floored Tony. How did Sam not even know what _birthday_ Steve was celebrating?

“I’m 95,” Steve said.

“He’s 95,” Tony said at exactly the same time but with more bite. Damn if that wasn’t awkward. He took a bite of pizza in an attempt to brush it off. 

Sam gave him a strange look, though, which meant Tony probably didn’t do the best job.

“Wow, Rogers,” Sam laughed. It seemed like he was letting Tony off the hook. “You’re way older than you look.”

“Thanks, Sam,” Steve snorted. “Try telling me something I don't know.”

Tony rolled his eyes at the exchange. However cute it was, Tony really didn’t understand how you could be someone’s boyfriend and now know how old he or she was. He’d always known how old Pepper was, even back when he’d forgotten her actual birth _day_ all together. And, really, Pepper was the only comparison he could make.

He had a headache, but suddenly Steve was smiling and nudging Tony’s arm with his elbow. 

“Look, Tony, this is the pitcher I was telling you about.” 

“Oh, yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve grabbed another piece of pizza. “This was a good call,” he said, holding up the pizza slice. “Thanks, Tony.”

“Sure, Steve,” Tony said. “Any time.”

* * *

The ballgame ended around 3:30, which gave Natasha an opportunity to start a game of Pictionary. 

“Really?” Clint whined, even though he loved board games almost as much as Steve did.

“What?” Natasha asked, her voice deceptively innocent. “This is a fun one.”

“You’re picking it because whichever team Steve is on will win, and that’s fine except pretty much everyone here can draw but _me_.”

“Well, for today that’s not true,” Sam said, laughing. “Steve might be Pablo Picasso, but I’m definitely not an artist.”

“Okay, so we’re splitting you two up for sure,” Bruce laughed. “And, honestly I can’t really draw outside of scientific settings.”

“Last time we played, your team won based on your drawing of a platypus,” Steve deadpanned, eyebrows raised. 

“I studied egg-laying mammals in high school!”

“Of course you did,” Sam said seemingly in despair. He looked at Clint. “We’re doomed, aren’t we?” 

“Yes,” Clint confirmed. “Even Nat can draw.” He paused and laughed. “Kind of.”

Nat reached over and flicked Clint’s ear. He yelped. 

“Come on.” She pulled the board out. “We’re playing. It’s fun.” 

No one was about to argue that. 

“Steve, you want to pick teams?” 

“Oh no,” Steve said. “It’s my birthday. I’m officially not picking teammates for this. I think you’re all great, and I’d be happy to be on your team.”

“Oh, shut up,” Clint rolled his eyes. “You’re taking Sam and Bruce. Nat and I need Tony’s not-so-secret drawing skill.”

“Perfect,” Steve agreed easily, a wicked smirk on his face. “It’s not going to help you, but I appreciate that you’re going to try to win anyway.”

“Oh my god, I’ve never seen him like this.” Sam was laughing.

“No?” Tony chuckled. “Steve takes board games very seriously. Particularly, Pictionary. He’s ruthless, and we’re doomed.”

“But,” Natasha said grinning widely as she passed out the notepads. “We’re going to go down putting up one hell of a fight.”

* * *

Tony’s prediction was right, but the game was closer than he’d anticipated in the end. He suspected that was because Steve threw two key guesses, but Tony wasn’t about to out Steve when he was trying to be considerate. 

Even better, by the time the game ended, it was close enough to dinner time that they could start to get things ready.

“Alright,” Tony said as he leaned back into the couch. “Bitter defeats aside, we’ve got a ton of food that needs to be prepped for the grill.”

“Are steaks?” Nat asked, smirking a little. Tony knew she loved steak.

“Of course,” Tony shrugged. “We’ve got everything. There are ribs, chicken wings, burgers, steaks — the whole deal. I figured we’d barbecue.” Steve ate everything and seemed to enjoy it all the same, but Tony knew for a _fact_ that Bruce preferred chicken to red meat and Clint had a weakness for pork ribs. Might as well make everyone happy when he could. 

“Awesome,” Sam said. “Who’s in charge of grilling around here?”

“That would be me,” Clint said with his voice full of pride.

“ _Only_ when he has adult supervision,” Nat said, eyes narrowed. “Lest we forget when he nearly burned the tower down.”

Sam snickered and Clint looked entirely unbothered. 

“Where are we at on the prep front?” Clint asked.

“The steaks are Nat’s department; I haven’t touched those. I’m letting Bruce have free reign with the chicken. The ribs obviously need to get on the grill first so I figured you’d start there. Oh, and I shaped the burgers at lunch; I’ll add the seasoning right before you're ready for them on the grill,” Tony rattled the information off to Clint who was listening intently. “And for Steve’s peace of mind — and Nat’s too, who are we kidding? — I’ve also got a wide variety of vegetables to grill. _And_ a pre-made salad from Reggie’s.” 

_Take that_ , Tony thought, ridiculously, at no one. There wasn’t anyone to one-up here. Tony was the only person in charge of dinner for God’s sakes. But if he happened to pull together the perfect birthday dinner for Steve, that was something to be proud of at least.

“Awesome,” Nat said, making a beeline for the fridge. “Clint, get ready for the ribs.”

“I’m turning on the grills if someone wants to ‘supervise.’” Based on his tone, Clint was rolling his eyes. 

“I’ve got that part,” Sam jumped forward. “Mostly because it sounds like there are several grill _s_ and I’m concerned _._ ”

Tony smirked because there were. 

Bruce joined Natasha in the kitchen, leaving Steve and Tony in the living room. 

Steve looked over at Tony.

“How’d you even manage to get all of this together from halfway across the world?” he asked, smiling.

“Come on, Steve, you know better than to ask that. You can order anything online. Even premium meats and organic vegetables.”

Tony had expected Steve to laugh. The wide, genuine smile he received instead was just as good. 

“Thank you,” Steve said. His tone was so _earnest_ it caught Tony off guard. “No matter how casual you pretend to be about all of this, I’m sure it wasn't that simple. You put a lot of thought into it. More than you needed to.” He paused, but his eyes didn’t leave Tony’s. Tony had to fight every instinct that was telling him to fidget, to flee. “I really appreciate it. It means a lot to me — more than I can say, actually.”

Tony didn’t know what to say to that.

“You’re welcome,” he heard himself say. Thank God for instinctual manners.

“You know Tony,” Sam interrupted from the door to the patio. It was the first time Tony had been grateful to hear his voice all day. “I’m not sure you really thought through a penthouse for superheroes complete with a patio with not one, not two, but _four_ grills.”

Steve chuckled.

“It… may have been an oversight,” Tony allowed. He didn’t really think so. Personally, Tony thought installing four grills was smart — it meant he only had to replace them after ridiculous pranks put several grills out of commission, instead of replacing a single grill on a bi-weekly basis. “But you live and learn.”

Sam stepped back outside, and a minute later he and Clint were laughing loudly.

“He fits right in,” Tony said. He had _no idea_ why he said that. He didn’t want to be part of this conversation. 

But… if Steve wanted to talk about Sam, well. Tony was trying to be a good friend, dammit.

“I’m pretty sure Sam could fit in just about anywhere,” Steve agreed. His eyes were trained on Sam thought the window. He was smiling but Tony almost thought he saw something like… jealousy in Steve's expression, and that made _zero_ sense whatsoever. “But you're right. He fits in like he belongs here.”

“Watch out, you’ll wake up one day and find out he’s actually an undiscovered Avenger.”

“I’d prefer having at least one friend who doesn’t regularly risk his life for the world,” Steve countered. Tony understood that completely. “But you’re probably right.”

Tony wasn’t sure what he was going to say next. Probably something stupid. 

Luckily, Natasha chose that exact moment to launch a baby carrot across the kitchen. It hit the back of Steve’s head squarely.

“Come on you two,” she chided lightly. “Get over here. These vegetables won’t chop themselves.”

“I feel like I should be exempt, considering it’s my birthday.” Steve said, even as he stood up and walked into the kitchen.

“And I feel like we only have enough vegetables to feed a small army because you eat enough for three people combined,” Nat smiled at Steve. “So start chopping.”

Steve sighed dramatically. 

“Don’t sigh. Tony’s going to help you.”

Tony had seen that one coming from the minute he made the vegetable proclamation and had already resigned himself to his vegetable chopping post.

* * *

As Tony expected, dinner was a loud, silly, ridiculously happy affair. Even though some of the vegetables were more blackened than grilled and some of the chicken was drier than it would have been in an ideal world, none of it mattered in the slightest. 

Steve, in particular, spent most of the meal laughing loudly as everyone took turns telling stories about their favorite and least favorite birthdays, SHIELD missions, or family events. It was light-hearted. It was how Tony thought a family birthday dinner was supposed to go, although he had no real frame of reference.

It was exactly what Tony hoped Steve would get for his birthday. 

By the time everyone settled into the patio chairs and recliners comfortably, The 4th of July fireworks were just an added bonus. 

After the last explosions of color against the black sky petered out, Tony glanced at his watch and realized it was late. As in, late enough that soon people would start excusing themselves to bed — Steve and… company included. Tony really _really_ didn’t need to be around for that. 

There were things he could be working on. Should be working on, even.

Tony stood up from his recliner and studiously ignored the fact that Steve’s eyes were on him. He walked toward the grill and gathered up some of the dishes that needed to make their way back inside to eventually be washed. He should have expected what came next because Steve was _Steve,_ but Tony thought surely even the most polite people could resist clearing up dishes on their birthdays. Apparently not, Steve. 

Tony had barely stepped into the kitchen before Steve was on his heels, dishes piled up in his arms. 

“You don’t have to clean up, you know,” Tony said. He was smiling, which took the bite out of it. “It’s your birthday, Steve.”

“It stopped being my birthday about…” Steve looked at the clock on the stove. “Twenty two minutes ago.”

Tony knew that. But who really cared?

“You don’t have to clean up either,” Steve added. “We can do it in the morning. Tonight isn’t a cleaning night.”

Tony raised his eyebrows at that. Steve was advocating for blowing off chores until tomorrow? He never thought he’d see the day.

“I was just bringing them inside,” Tony said finally, stacking the plates on the counter beside the sink. He gestured for Steve to bring the others closer, and Tony carefully arranged them all so they were stable, but occupied the least amount of counter space possible. “While I was heading this way, I mean.”

“Calling it a night early?” Steve asked. He didn’t sound disappointed, which was good. Just curious. It was early for Tony to be heading to bed.

“Something like that,” Tony said. “There are a few things I have to check up on in the lab.”

Tony heard Sam laugh outside, and remembered why he was trying to make such a hasty exit. Self-preservation and all that. 

“Oh,” Steve said. “Of course, I should have guessed.” He rubbed the back of his neck, suddenly seeming embarrassed about something. “I, uh, really appreciate you taking the time to just… be here with us today. I know how busy you are and how important the projects you’re involved in are for the team and your company—”

“Steve,” Tony said, fighting a smile and kindly cutting off Steve’s rambling. “It’s your _birthday_. Of course we were going to spend time together.”

Steve looked down, his cheeks suddenly flushed dark enough that Tony could see it, even in the dimly lit kitchen. It took him a minute to find his voice. 

“Natasha also mentioned that you were the one to make sure everyone was here today,” Steve said, looking Tony in the eye and smiling softly. “That… means so much to me. I don’t even know how to thank you.”

He was so honest sometimes that it almost physically _hurt_ Tony. And the way Steve was staring at him… Tony could almost convince himself that Steve wanted him. 

This was a dangerous game; he needed to get away. Before his brain could properly process the words, his mouth was moving. 

“Sure thing, Cap,” Tony said, his voice bright with false cheer instead of sincerity. He took a few steps back, inching closer to the hallway. “Have a good night.”

He saw enough to know Steve’s expression crumpled into confusion and — damn, that stung — _hurt,_ but Tony had to get out of there before he did something he couldn't take back. Like kiss Steve. Or admit he thought Steve was the single most attractive man he’d ever met, not to mention the kindest. That could _not_ happen. 

He fled to the workshop and there was nothing particularly unusual about that. His plan was simple: he was going to drown his feelings in work. Tony Stark was nothing if not great at drowning out the turmoil in his heart with the harsh sounds of power tools.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. This chapter became a MONSTER. And it was originally combined with the NEXT chapter, but now they're two chapters. Please don't hate me. I'm posting the next chapter very, very soon. But I wanted to give you guys something for being so patient and for helping me reach over 300 kudos and more than 80 comments. You're truly the best readers ever!


	9. A Promise

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Steve's birthday, part 3. Enjoy!

Steve stared blankly at the hallway Tony had just disappeared down. He was thoroughly confused about what had just happened. They’d been having a fairly normal, if unusually emotional conversation. One minute Tony was grinning, and saying _Steve_ in a way that made Steve feel like his name was something special, and the next he’d plastered on that flimsy, fake smile Steve _hated_ and called him ‘Cap,’ which was unusual _anywhere_ but in the field.

Steve couldn’t figure out where he’d gone wrong. Unless… It was possible Tony had just figured out how Steve felt about him. Steve wouldn’t be surprised; Tony was smart and observant, and Steve knew he was pathetically transparent about his feelings. Every other Avenger had been teasing him about it for weeks.

Steve sighed, running a hand through his hair. It wasn’t promising that Tony had just run off if he _had_ just figured it out. But maybe Tony just needed space to wrap his head around the idea and get back to normal. It wasn’t like Steve was going to push for more. He was just happy to be Tony’s friend.

Steve decided to go back out to tell the others goodnight. It only seemed right, after all, that he thank them for the day and figure out where Sam was planning to stay.

He stepped out onto the balcony with a quiet sigh, which Natasha immediately pointed out. 

“Uh oh,” she said, brow furrowed. “That’s never a good sign. What’s wrong?”

“Nothing,” Steve assured, smiling. “I’m just tired, I think.” 

“Yeah?” Sam asked. He rolled his eyes. “That have anything to do with the fact that Stark just disappeared?”

“No, of course not,” Steve lied. He was a terrible liar. 

“Steve,” everyone on the balcony said, collectively, with the exception of Bruce, who just shot Steve a _look_.

Steve groaned and collapsed into one of the empty reclining chairs beside Sam. 

“He literally just _ran away from me_ ,” Steve confessed. It was pointless to avoid it when they all already knew.

“What?” Natasha sounded far too incredulous in Steve’s opinion.

“We were talking, and I thanked him for, you know, all of this,” Steve gestured in a way he hoped encompassed the group around him, the tower, and the day in general. “I must have gotten too… too _something,_ I don’t know. Next thing I know he’s calling me ‘Cap’ and all but running down the hall to his workshop.”

Steve was surprised that Bruce was the one to respond to that. 

“That doesn’t sound like Tony,” he said, very matter of fact.

“It _really_ doesn’t,” Natasha agreed. “I feel like you’re definitely missing part of the story, which is why I keep telling you to just _talk to him_.”

“I can’t Nat. You know that.”

“Yes, yes,” she rolled her eyes. “Your friendship is too important and all of that. Here’s a thought: maybe Tony thinks your friendship is just as important as you do, and he’d be able to talk about this with you so you can both move forward like adults.”

“I’m with her,” Sam said, tipping his chin toward Natasha. “Just go talk to him. I’ve been here all of twelve hours, and even I can see that you two need to talk”

“At the very least, ask him why he just hightailed it out of the kitchen,” Clint said. 

Steve closed his eyes. He really wished his friends didn't make so much sense. 

“Fine,” Steve said. He stood up. “Fine. You win.”

Clint and Sam high fived, and Natasha smiled at him softly. 

“If you want an excuse to talk to him, ask if he has a spare room for Sam to sleep in,” Natasha offered. “There’s no reason he should have to go to a hotel this late and all his stuff is already here.”

“Okay,” Steve nodded. Suddenly his heart was _racing._ He turned to the balcony doors and pulled one open. “Wish me luck.”

He heard the chorus of well-wishes (and Clint’s loving ‘ _fuck off, you don’t_ need _luck’_ ) before he closed the door.

Naturally, Steve stalled a bit longer before going downstairs. He washed some of the dishes in the sink, despite what he’d told Tony. He also decided to make some hot chocolate because that was the one birthday tradition his team hadn’t managed to cover today. 

His mom had always saved up and made sure they had hot chocolate on his birthday because it was Steve’s favorite.

It took maybe ten minutes to heat up in a pot on the stove, and then Steve filled two mugs, trying not to let his nerves get the best of him. This would be a good thing, Steve thought. Hearing Tony say he wasn’t interested might help Steve get past what he was feeling. 

He walked down the stairs expecting to hear loud music. He was surprised to find Tony working in relative silence, with only the occasional whirring of a handheld, cordless drill. Steve walked inside before stopping next to the metal table closest to the entrance. He didn’t want to invade Tony’s space without permission, and he didn’t want to scare him. 

Steve rapped his knuckles against the table.

“I’ll be with you in… forty-two seconds…” Tony said without pausing his work in the slightest. 

Steve couldn’t help but smile at that; Tony was always so precise. 

Steve waited patiently while Tony finished dismantling the… whatever he was working on, and it split apart after a final whir of the drill. Tony turned to face him and immediately dropped the drill onto the countertop. 

“Steve?” he said, clearly surprised. “Is everything okay…?” Tony glanced at his watch, probably confirming it had only been twenty minutes since he left Steve in the kitchen. 

“Everything’s fine,” Steve said quickly. “I just wanted to talk to you.”

Tony’s features shifted from concerned to anxious and, well, Steve could relate to the sudden tension in Tony’s shoulders.

“Oh,” Steve said, looking down at the mugs in his hands awkwardly. “I also brought you hot chocolate, if you want it.” Steve shrugged. “It’s just… a birthday thing from when I was little. You don’t have to drink it, obviously, but I thought it’d be rude not to offer—”

Tony stepped forward and carefully took the mug from Steve’s left hand. 

“I like hot chocolate,” Tony said as Steve tried not to pay too much attention to their hands brushing during the exchange. “Thanks, Steve.”

“No problem,” Steve mumbled, dumbly.

“Should we…” Tony glanced over at the couch by the wall. “Sit, maybe?”

“Yeah,” Steve nodded. “That works. Oh, and before I forget there was one other thing. Are you alright with Sam staying in the Tower tonight?” Steve asked, following Tony toward the couch. “I doubt Natasha checked with you before inviting him, and I know you’re big on security…”

“Yes, Steve,” Tony said, his voice strained, quiet, and unlike anything Steve had heard from him before. “Of course he can stay.” That tone, at least, Steve recognized. He was familiar with exasperation.

“Thanks.” They reached the couch and Steve sat beside Tony, knees angled toward him. “I figure I’ll just set him up in Thor’s room because he hasn’t been here since you built the place, and I can just wash the sheets when Sam’s gone. It won’t be for more than the weekend. He has to be back at work Monday.”

Now Tony was staring at him strangely.

“I don’t—I—” Tony shook his head in frustration like Steve wasn't making any sense whatsoever. “Sure. No problem.” He wrapped his hands together around the mug, took a sip, and placed it on the table in front of the couch. Steve followed suit, and Tony was the one to break the silence. “So. We’re talking.”

“Right,” Steve said, with the apprehension rushing back in full force. “So. I guess I just feel like we should talk about this before something happens and you find out from one of Clint and Nat’s very obvious jokes or… I don't know, something like that.”

Tony stared at him, his brown eyes full of understanding, of all things.

“Steve, you don’t have to worry about me—”

“Sure I do, this directly involves you. I mean, more than it involves any of them.”

“—I’m going to be fine.” Tony didn't even seem to be taking a breath between sentences.

“Honestly, if you just tell them you’re not interested in me, they’d probably even stop teasing—”

“It’ll just take time for me to totally get over the feelings I have for you. You don’t need to feel like you have to hide your relationship with—”

“Wait, _what?”_ Steve asked. He was really hoping he heard that right. “What did you just say?”

That was when Steve’s words actually seemed to register in Tony’s brain. He froze.

“What are _you_ saying?” Tony shot back. 

Steve rolled his eyes and huffed out a laugh as if he expected nothing less from Tony than to make this conversation even more awkward than necessary. He took a deep breath and fixed his gaze on Tony’s evenly. Talking didn't seem to be working very well for them.

“I… I’m just going to try something,” Steve said, voice suddenly low and rough. He brought his right hand up to Tony’s face, thumb brushing his cheekbone. “Stop me if this isn't what you want.”

Steve inched closer to Tony slowly. So slowly Steve thought he deserved some kind of award for his restraint. 

He wanted to give Tony every possible second to realize what Steve was planning to do and turn away. Tony didn’t.

Their lips were barely centimeters apart when Steve’s composure broke.

“ _Tony?”_ he asked, his voice reedy and embarrassingly desperate. Tony wasn’t saying no, but he also wasn’t doing _anything_ and that didn’t mean this was what he wanted.

Something in Steve’s voice must have shocked some sense back into Tony. Tony surged forward, their lips meeting in an almost bruising kiss. He moved his right hand behind Steve’s neck to bring him closer while his left hand settled on Steve’s chest, fisting in his shirt. 

Steve easily followed when Tony pulled him closer. He melted into the kiss, eyes closed, and tried to believe that the impossible was actually happening. 

He worked his fingers into Tony’s hair because he’d been waiting to do that for what felt like forever, and he wasn't about to miss his chance. 

In the end, Tony broke away first, and Steve suspected that was because he needed to breathe. When he did, they were both breathing heavily. 

“Jesus Steve,” Tony said, fighting back a smile. 

“Yeah?” Steve asked, smirking.

Tony rolled his eyes and went quiet for a minute. He flattened his left hand on Steve’s chest, smoothing out his shirt. 

“So you’re not dating Sam, then,” Tony said, sure of himself. He knew Steve wasn’t the type to cheat. It just wasn’t in his nature.

“What?” Steve’s eyes went wide. “You thought I was _dating_ Sam?”

“Well, yeah. When I got off the elevator this morning Clint was asking where your boyfriend was and you said he’d texted you before he got on the plane, and then Sam showed up and—”

“Tony, he was teasing me about _you_.”

“Oh, um. Well then.”

Steve actually laughed then.

“Is _that_ what’s been happening today?”

Tony winced and Steve frowned a little, backtracking. 

“Tony, no. I had a great day. It was easily one of my best birthdays. But there was just something… off between us. Only sometimes. I couldn't figure out what it was. I thought maybe you figured out how I’ve been feeling and…” Steve shrugged.

“God, no,” Tony sighed. “If I’d figured out how you were feeling I would have jumped you in the kitchen twenty minutes ago.”

“Oh so _that’s_ why you fled?” Steve asked, sounding more smug than he had any right to be, in Tony’s opinion.

“I did not _flee,_ ” Tony said. “That’s ridiculous. I simply removed myself from the situation to avoid destroying our friendship.”

Steve’s eyes went soft and he smiled wider.

“Our friendship is important to me, too,” Steve agreed. “But I also want… more. If that’s something you want.”

“ _Yes,_ ” Tony nodded immediately, staring at Steve’s mouth rather than his eyes. “Yes, absolutely, yes. More is much better.” He leaned in and kissed Steve for a second time. It was a quick thing, but no less meaningful than the first.

“More is definitely better,” Steve said softly when they parted.

“Definitely.” Tony smiled and moved his fingers in lazy patterns along the base of Steve’s neck. “I’m glad you came to talk to me.”

“ _I’m_ glad I came to talk to you,” Steve said, laughing. “Even if the rest of them will never shut up now.”

“I guess that explains why Natasha was so insistent that I talk to you.”

“That would be why, yes. She’s known how I feel about you for… probably weeks now.”

Tony hummed, leaning into Steve.

“When did you know?” Tony asked, after a minute. 

“When you made me breakfast after you finished the team comms units.”

“Huh.” Tony sounded thoughtful. “I had no idea.”

Steve laughed.

“Well, yeah. That was kind of the idea, Tony. I didn’t want you to know.”

“Why not?” Tony whined, curling his fingers into Steve’s shirt again. 

“Why didn’t _you_ want _me_ to know?” Steve shot back, raising his eyebrows.

“Who says I even _knew_ how I was feeling?”

“You have, a few times now. How long have you even known?”

“Only since right before my trip,” Tony admitted, cheeks going ever so slightly pink. 

That, of course, piqued Steve’s interest.

“What’s this about?” he asked, voice a bit too smug for the sincerity he was trying for. He ran the back of his right index finger along Tony’s cheek.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Tony’s gaze didn’t waver, but Steve _knew_ he was lying. He decided not to press the issue, though. 

“How did you realize?” Steve tried again.

Tony looked down, breaking their eye contact. Steve wondered if Tony even realized he was smiling — it was one of the rare smiles that Steve was just starting to get used to seeing.

“I didn’t, technically,” he said, turning to look at Steve again. “Pepper did and decided to clue me in.”

“Of course she did.” Steve couldn’t help but laugh at that. Trust Pepper, one of Tony’s closest friends, to know Tony’s feelings better than even Tony.

“In my defense, I think her and Nat were the only ones who knew.”

“What tipped Pepper off, anyway?”

“I had to, uh, ask her to rearrange my schedule.”

“What for?”

“ _Who_ for?” Tony corrected. He smiled softly at Steve. “And for you, of course. I wasn’t originally meant to be back by today. We had to rearrange some things to make sure I got back this morning.”

Steve was quiet and as the seconds ticked by Tony grew more and more uncomfortable. He started fidgeting, the hand that was still at the back of Steve’s neck tracing more and more complex patterns against his skin.

“Did you miss anything important?” Steve asked, finally.

“More important than your birthday?” Tony was using the same tone of voice he used when someone questioned one of his inventions — the most skeptical of skeptical tones. “No, of course not.”

Steve smiled. At first it was a small, fragile thing that Tony wasn’t sure he’d ever seen before, but it quickly grew into a blinding grin Tony recognized. He’d seen it on a few occasions, but he remembered it from that morning he made Steve breakfast — the blueberry muffins in particular. Now he had a whole new meaning for it.

“I don’t think anyone has ever done something like that for me,” Steve said as he pulled Tony closer and wrapped him up tightly in his arms. He was careful not to hurt Tony with his super-strength. “Thank you, Tony.”

Tony felt Steve’s breath on his neck and shivered. He was a little bewildered but returned the hug easily. He was happy to be hugged by Steve. 

Hell, he was happy to just be around Steve. 

But because Tony knew himself and his self-destructive tendencies…

“I feel like I should manage expectations here,” Tony said quietly, mostly into Steve’s neck. “I have no idea what I’m doing with relationships.”

Steve’s laughter shook them both and he showed no sign of letting Tony go.

“You think I have any idea what I’m doing? As much as I cared about Peggy, what she and I had was more of an almost-relationship than an actual relationship.”

“Wow,” Tony said, sounding thoughtful. “I may have found the only other eligible person with less experience in this department than me.”

“Exactly,” Steve said. He pulled away, moving his hands to Tony’s shoulders and then down to take Tony’s hands in his. “I have no idea what I’m doing. But I’m serious about this.”

“Me too.”

“So we’ll figure it out.”

“We’ll figure it out.” It was more than a hope; it was a promise.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know it's all a little cheesy, but... this is how it played out in my head. What do you think? 
> 
> Obviously, this is just the start of their relationship and I have more chapters planned that really flesh out what/who they are to each other. But how are you feeling so far?!
> 
> Did I do them justice? Do you think they can make it work? Please tell me about all the feels.
> 
> Thanks for reading; I love you all!


	10. Trust

The other Avengers — or at least those in New York, on Earth — knew within minutes.

There hadn’t been any way around it. After they kissed in Tony’s workshop, Steve went back upstairs. Despite Tony’s protests, he hadn’t had much of a choice. He needed to set Sam up in Thor’s room and officially say goodnight to everyone.

That, of course, hadn’t stopped Tony from convincing Steve that they needed to finish his birthday by re-watching A New Hope together. Just the two of them. 

In all honesty, Tony hadn’t needed to do much “convincing” on that front.

But it meant Steve allotted exactly seven minutes to show Sam Thor’s room and say goodnight. Tony was making popcorn, and clearly getting back to _that_ was the priority.

The problem? Steve wasn’t a good liar. So things had gone about as well as could be expected.

“What’s the verdict?” Nat asked the minute Steve stepped onto the patio. 

“Sam, you can stay in Thor’s room. He’s actually never been here to use it, so it’ll honestly be more your room than his. I can show you—”

“Steve,” Nat said. Her eyes were narrowed in suspicion. “We sent you down there with that as your cover. Of course he’s letting Sam stay. None of that matters.”

“Alright, well then if everyone knows I’m just going to —”

“Would you just tell us?” Sam asked, sounding exasperated. “We’ve been sitting here for twenty minutes wondering what the hell was happening.”

“It’s really none of your business,” Steve sighed. “But we worked it out. Tony and I are good. Now, if you’ll—”

“Oh my god, Steve,” Clint whined. “Did you two make out or not?”

Steve snorted a laugh. He closed his eyes and sighed. They weren’t going to let it go. Tony probably wouldn’t care. He hoped.

“Yes, we kissed. Okay, now, as much as I appreciate all your support, I have plans in—” he paused and looked down at his watch. “Approximately four minutes. So Sam if you want me to show you what room you’re staying in, the clock is ticking.”

“Ha, yes! I knew it!” Clint pumped his fist in the air.

“That’s awesome, Steve,” Sam said, smiling. 

“I’m happy for you,” Bruce said.

Nat grinned at Steve, more than a little smug. Steve figured he deserved that.

“So, what’s the story?” Clint asked. Apparently, he wasn’t shy about pressing for details. 

Steve hesitated. He knew they were happy for him and Tony, but Steve really didn’t have the time for it.

Lucky for him, Tony was just as impatient as he was, and Tony knew their friends just as well.

“Master Stark has asked me to pass along a message,” JARVIS cut into the silence on the patio. “He says ‘If you all don’t release my new boyfriend from your interrogation in the next ten seconds I’m donating each of your custom-made mattresses to a charity and buying you used ones from eBay.’”

Steve smiled widely at his new title. He liked it. 

As they processed Tony’s threat, Clint visibly shivered and Natasha crossed her arms defensively. Even Bruce’s eyes widened with fear. 

“Shit,” Sam was the only one still laughing. His mattress wasn’t in jeopardy, after all. “He means business, Steve. You better go.”

“Gladly,” Steve gave a little wave and made for the door back inside. “If you need anything you can just ask JARVIS,” Steve said looking at Sam. “Or ask JARVIS to ask me.”

Sam nodded.

Steve paused by the door, turned, and looked back at everyone.

“I, uh,” he stopped. They were such an unlikely group of friends. “Thank you. For today, and for… everything.” 

He didn’t know why it was so difficult for him to say. He meant every word.

“You’re welcome, Steve,” Natasha said. He knew from the look on her face that she heard everything he wasn’t saying about how important they were to him.

Steve smiled and went back inside.

When Steve got to Tony’s room, Tony already had the movie pulled up on the TV screen, which was tucked into his wall, and he had a giant bowl of popcorn beside him. Tony didn’t meet his eyes right away, though, which made Steve nervous.

“Sorry,” Tony said, tapping at something on his tablet as he leaned against the headboard. He glanced up at Steve, and then his eyes darted down again. “That was a little dramatic. But I’m… not great at patience.”

Steve smiled. That’s what this was about? 

He sat down on the bed beside Tony, sandwiching the popcorn bowl between them.

“Hey, Tony?” Steve said. His tone was playful enough that it got Tony to look at him. “I like _you._ So I’m good with dramatic.” Tony smiled a little. “Besides, I think the threat was necessary. You scared _Nat._ ”

“I thought that might get her.” Tony was smirking now as he reflected on his effective threat. “I’m definitely going to regret it, though.” 

Steve thought about it for a minute. 

“Possibly,” he said finally. Threatening Nat was never without consequence. Steve thought she was more romantic than she let on, though.

Tony put his tablet on the nightstand and looked back at Steve. 

“Worth it.”

He said it so plainly, as if it were just that simple. Steve loved it.

“So, movie?” Tony asked. 

It was nearly one in the morning, and Tony looked just as awake, if not more awake, than he did in the middle of the day. He fidgeted with the remote. 

Steve reached over and took the remote from Tony; it wasn’t needed. He moved it to the side table.

“What—?” Tony started as Steve picked up the popcorn bowl and moved it to his left side. He shifted closer to Tony on the bed. Tony looked confused — not displeased, but not sure what was going on either.

“I’ve spent too many movie nights wishing I could be close to you to be hindered by a popcorn bowl now that I have the chance,” Steve explained, however pathetic it was.

“Really?”

“Yes, really.” 

Tony stared at him for a few seconds, looking far more shocked by Steve’s admission than he probably should have. Steve reached over and smoothed back a lock of Tony’s hair which had fallen across his forehead. To Steve’s surprise, Tony was _blushing._

Steve started to say something — what he wasn’t sure, but it would come to him — only to be cut off by Tony leaning in and kissing him thoroughly.

When they broke apart, Steve raised his eyebrows. He was still curious about the blushing, and Tony’s kissing finesse wasn’t about to deter him from asking. 

“Not a word,” Tony said, blushing even more. He cuddled up next to Steve, curling under his arm and into his side. Steve was more than happy about the change in positions and only pulled Tony closer.

“Comfortable?” Steve asked a second later.

Tony nodded, his head against Steve’s shoulder.

“Perfect. JARVIS, please start the movie.”

* * *

So figuring it out, as it turned out, was not as difficult as either anticipated. Their friendship morphed into a relationship with ease once it became clear that less-than-casual touches and flattering comments would be welcomed by both parties. 

It became embarrassingly obvious — in no small part thanks to the other Avengers’ teasing — how much their friendship had been more of a relationship all along.

It was just _easy._

When Tony spent days in the workshop without pause, Steve delivered meals to him. That wasn’t even anything new. The only difference was that when Steve got down to the lab, he’d abandon the plate on the corner of a tabletop and walk up behind Tony making enough noise to announce his presence. 

If he felt certain Tony noticed him, Steve would wrap his arms around Tony’s waist and settle his head on the shorter man’s shoulder to look over whatever he was working on. If Tony didn’t realize Steve had entered, Steve would tap his shoulder and wait until Tony turned around, realized it was Steve, and smiled at him.

Steve, of course, didn’t have an equivalent of a workshop to lose himself in. Instead, Steve would sometimes slip away and hide somewhere — usually on the patio or the roof —to sketch or just stare at the city for a few hours. When that happened, it had always been something of a tradition of theirs for Tony to find Steve and declare they needed to get out of the tower for a few hours. 

When they became a couple, that didn’t change. Their outings just became impromptu date nights or, on a few memorable occasions, date mornings. They would go out and try to run off Steve’s intrusive thoughts by exploring Central Park, going to a place with old arcade games, or going to a baseball game. 

On the particularly bad days when the grief of losing his home and his family and his time hit hard, Steve declined to go out, and Tony just sat with him. Sometimes they sat outside in two different lounge chairs; sometimes they curled up on the couch. 

If Steve wanted space all together, Tony settled for delivering meals at semi-regular intervals so that Steve would at least eat. 

The dark thoughts would pass eventually and, without fail, Steve would find Tony and wrap him up in a giant hug. Steve would whisper words of thanks into Tony’s hair or against his neck; he’d compliment Tony for his thoughtfulness, and tell him how much he appreciated his patience. Every time, Tony assured Steve he didn’t need to do that. Steve kept doing it anyway.

Steve and Tony’s signature back-and-forth banter never really changed, but it certainly took on a more flirtatious tone. They’d tease each other, complain about each other, and proceed to immediately contradict their words with what Natasha described as _“that ridiculous, disgustingly sweet, lovesick way you two stare at each other.”_

However it happened, they fell into their relationship with the ease of two people who were meant to end up with each other. 

Pepper had been quietly rooting for them from the start, but even she was surprised by the _rightness_ of Tony and Steve as a couple. One morning she caught Tony alone after a meeting with potential SI partners and commented on it.

“You know, I’ve never seen you like this before.”

Tony looked up from his phone with a small, secret smile on his face that almost always meant he was texting Steve. It was funny how after he started dating Tony, Steve suddenly became a big fan of texting.

“What?” His expression told her he’d heard exactly _none_ of what she’d said.

“You’ve never been like this before,” Pepper repeated. 

When she and Tony were together, Tony hadn’t been able to act with her the way he acted with Steve. Pepper couldn’t take the morning off for them to hang out, and they both knew it; Tony had never (seriously) asked or complained (much). Now, she could see that their relationship — which had largely consisted of late-nights, rare mornings, the occasional Sunday together, and a vacation once every two years that was likely to be interrupted by either an SI or Avengers emergency — was unsustainable for Tony. 

Tony worked as much as, if not more than her, which meant their schedules had almost never aligned. More than that, when Tony suddenly decided he’d had enough work and he wanted time with her, that had rarely been feasible. Setting aside the whole Iron Man issue, she should have realized sooner that they were never going to be an exact fit for each other. 

Tony loved more passionately than anyone Pepper knew. He needed _more_ ; specifically, he needed someone who would have time or _make_ time for him whenever Tony decided he wanted or needed it — and sometimes even when he didn’t. 

Steve was exactly that type of person.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, Pep.”

“Oh, never mind.” Pepper rolled her eyes and smiled. “Just go get lunch with your boyfriend. I know that’s what you two were texting about.”

Pepper secretly thought Tony was trying to take Steve to every restaurant in New York. He might have tried it with her if they’d had the time, or if Pepper hadn’t already been to many of them by the time they started dating.

Tony narrowed his eyes at her as if what she was saying just registered.

“You know I loved you the same way, right?”

“I know that, Tony.” She was sure that with more time even the residual pain of hearing ‘ _loved_ ’ instead of ‘ _love’_ would fade. “Personally, I think we both work too much for it to have worked out with us.”

“Maybe,” Tony smiled sadly, probably agreeing she was right; she wasn’t sure that — excluding weekends — they’d ever had a weekday lunch date.

“Seriously, go,” she told him, smiling. “You can’t stand him up.”

“I’m going, I’m going.”

* * *

Tony and Steve’s biggest challenge came from the fact that neither of them really had any experience with relationships.

When Tony went on what was probably his third or fourth business trip since they started dating — his first four-day conference — another example of their relative lack of experience with being in relationships became evident. It started with a phone call, which wasn’t abnormal. Tony had called Steve almost every night, except for the one when he was on the plane, but the timing was different. 

“Hey Tony,” Steve said into his phone, smiling. 

“Steve!” Tony sounded excited. “You answered! I wasn’t sure you would.”

“I’m just sitting here drawing,” Steve shrugged, even though he knew Tony couldn’t see him. “No reason not to pick up. How’s the conference?”

“Oh, you know.” Steve could practically hear Tony rolling his eyes. “These things are pretty dull most of the time. There were a few promising inventions and breakthroughs, though. I’m mulling over a few new potential partnerships for SI.”

“The tissue regeneration guy?” Steve knew Tony had been looking forward to his presentation.

“That _was_ worth listening to. He actually thinks he can safely heal damaged tissues at four times the normal rate.”

“Sounds familiar,” Steve said, wryly thinking of his own hastened metabolism and healing. “And like it could help a lot of people.”

“Exactly. It’s still high-cost and low-yield but that’s pretty much how everything starts. Stark Industries might be able to get him to work with us. Our best shot would be enticing him with all the work we’ve done with injured veterans. But I’m also not about to exploit that program for a flashy new science project. So we’ll see what happens.”

“I’m sure it’ll work out.” Steve thought it’d be quite a day when someone turned down the option to work with Stark Industries. But, then again, he assumed it wasn’t impossible that another company could be a better fit.

“Maybe.” Tony was always much less confident.

“So what are you up to for the rest of the night?” Steve asked, curious. It was only 6 in L.A. even though it was 9 for Steve. “Fun after-party?” 

It never ceased to surprise him how wild the parties were after these science and tech conferences. The first time Tony had convinced Steve to come along to one was in New York, a few months after he’d moved into the tower when they were still just friends. Steve had quickly decided it wasn’t really his scene even though he liked spending time with Tony. He knew Tony usually enjoyed them, though, and suspected Tony wanted to unwind after four days of work-talk.

“There’s something, yeah,” Tony said somewhat absently. “But I didn’t commit to going or anything,” he added quickly. 

Steve was confused by the sudden change in tone.

“Oh. Is everything okay? Do you not want to go?”

“Well, I wouldn’t mind going.”

“So why wouldn’t you go?”

“I mean, I hadn't talked to you about it.”

“Why would you have to talk to me about this?” Something about this conversation wasn’t sitting right with Steve. “Tony, is everything okay?”

“Yeah, of course. Everything is fine.”

“Okay…” Steve didn’t sound convinced. “So why wouldn’t you go to this party?

“It’s just — when I go to these things, people talk. And, inevitably it gets back to the tabloids and then the next thing I know the whole country thinks I’ve slept with some random person I’ve never even met.”

“Okay…” Steve’s voice was measured. “I’m… I guess I’m confused. What does this have to do with me? Or _does_ it involve me at all? It sounds like you want to go tonight so… you go. Right?”

“You… really don’t care?”

“Why would I care?”

“It’s just… I mean.”

“You know that you don’t… have to check with me for this stuff, right?”

“Um, well.” Tony didn’t know what to say. With Pepper, he’d never felt the need to ask about these sorts of things, mostly because of what he’d put her through with the Palladium poisoning and the incessant, obnoxious partying. He knew she hated it, but that was because she cared about him. So he tried not to stress her out more than he already did by being Iron Man. She had it rough enough being a female CEO of a Fortune 500 company. She didn’t also need the tabloids saying her boyfriend was sleeping around.

And before that, well, Tony hadn’t really had any relationships to speak of.

“Tony, we’re together, but that doesn’t mean you have to stop living your life. I’m not… You don’t have to get… my permission or anything.”

There was something profound about the fact that Tony had considered him in this in the first place. In a weird way, Steve thought it showed how much Tony valued their relationship. But this wasn’t the way Steve wanted things to be with them.

Tony was quiet.

“I trust you, Tony,” Steve said. “I know you said something about the gossip websites and whatever else, but… I don't care about any of that. I just care about you. And I trust you. So I’m not going to listen to any of them.” He paused for a minute, then teased. “I think we both know I’m more stubborn than that.”

‘Well, you’re definitely right about that,” Tony laughed quietly.

“Exactly.” Steve grinned. “So you’re going to your party tonight, then.”

“And you don’t even want me to convince Bruce to come along?”

“Tony, he hates those things more than I do. And he doesn’t have the same incentive I have to want to go with you.”

“So that’s a definite no.”

“Yes, it’s a definite no.” Tony could practically hear Steve rolling his eyes. “Just go. Have fun. You've definitely earned it.”

“Okay,” Tony still sounded weary. “I feel like I should apologize in advance for whatever you have to read tomorrow.”

“How about you’re coming home tomorrow morning and I’m planning to forfeit doing any reading altogether?” Steve said wryly, dropping his voice a little suggestively when he continued. “There are other things I’d rather be doing.”

“Okay, yeah,” Tony agreed quickly. “Square deal.” He paused for a minute and then sighed. “I really miss you. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

“I miss you too, Tony. See you soon.”

* * *

The next day, four tabloids reported that Tony Stark had been seen leaving a wild party in L.A. with three different women. 

Tony went home to Steve at eleven and, as luck would have it, they spent most of their Friday together too preoccupied to see any of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the wait on this chapter! I tried to give you a long one to reward your patience :). Classes and exams all caught up to me last week, so my writing time went down to zero. I think things are stabilizing again, though, so I should have time to write again.
> 
> What did you think of this chapter? There was a lot in here. Some Stony cuteness, some exposition, some past Pepper/Tony feels, and some Stony relationship-strengthening. I tried to explore a little bit of what happened with Pepper and Tony without pulling us out of the story. 
> 
> Fun fact about me: I actually adore Pepper Potts. I love Tony and Pepper together, and if they live happily ever after in the MCU and have a family I will be overjoyed. I really just love when Tony is happy. With that said, they obviously can't be together in this world where Steve and Tony are clearly made for each other ;). So I had to kind of explain what happened to their relationship; in this world, they ended things amicably after the events of Iron Man 3 and then Tony moved to New York. 
> 
> Do you think I did them justice? Do you think I built up Tony and Steve's relationship properly? Let me know!


	11. The Fights Don't Last Long

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm back! This chapter touches on a couple different milestones in Steve and Tony's relationship, so I wanted to clarify the timeline. 
> 
> Essentially it spans from July when they first get together to mid-September 2013. Hope that helps keep things clear. Happy reading :)!

_“Publicly, you two always seemed to have a contentious relationship with one another. Is that an obstacle in your relationship?”_

That was the dreaded question. 

Steve and Tony sat down with two trusted members of the Stark Industries PR team — senior staff members who had handled some of Tony’s bigger, more Iron Man-related announcements — about a month after they’d started dating. They knew they were in it for the long-haul by that point and were also aware that the chances of them being accidentally outed by paparazzi or just a random kid with a smartphone increased every time they left the tower together. 

They wanted the PR team to at least be ready when it inevitably got out, even if Steve and Tony were the ones who announced it sometime down the line.

And that was apparently the question everyone was going to want the answer to — once they got past the whole “Captain America is bisexual” thing.

So their answer was ready. Tony was most likely going to be the one to field the question because he was better at the delivery, but Steve knew it too just in case.

_“Are you really asking me this? Do I fight with my boyfriend? That’s your question?”_ Then, in the inevitable awkward silence that followed one of them would gear up and actually answer. _“Yes, we fight. What couple doesn’t? But we care about each other very much, so the fights don't last long and that’s all that matters.”_

The weirdest part about the prepared answer was that, at least for the first couple months, it wasn’t even true. Of course, they knew they _would_ fight — their friendship had taught them as much — but the first several weeks of their romantic relationship were fight-free. Of course, that only lasted until it _didn’t_ but for a while, things were smooth sailing.

* * *

On the night of their first official date Steve had brought up the fact that he’d never even been on a date before, and Tony handled it well. Somehow, they managed to navigate even the touchier subjects with relative ease at the start. 

“You know this is my first date ever, right?” Steve had said it jokingly, but his cheeks were tinged pink with embarrassment.

“That’s fine by me,” Tony said easily. “This is only the second first date I’ve ever been on that actually _matters_ to me.” 

“That’s not exactly the same thing.” Steve knew he was projecting nerves that didn’t really make sense. 

“No, it’s not. But I imagine that the nerves that come with it are about the same.”

Steve had to admit, Tony wasn’t quite his usual self tonight, either.

“You don’t have to be nervous,” Steve said, taking Tony’s hand in his and squeezing. Tony smiled a little. 

“Neither do you, but that doesn’t really help much, does it?”

Steve had laughed and conceded. It didn’t really help, much. But it was still nice to hear. 

As simple as that, they’d been able to move forward. 

Sure, it was different, but enough was the same that things didn’t stay awkward for long.

A couple weeks later, for their fifth ‘official’ date, they’d settled on Tony’s bed to watch The Bourne Identity because Tony said it was a tragedy that Steve didn’t understand Jason Bourne references.

Tony ended up cuddled into Steve’s side. Steve thought it was becoming a tradition for them, and he was more than okay with it. When the credits came to a close, Steve turned to tell Tony he enjoyed the movie before _immediately_ deciding that kissing him was the better plan.

This kiss lasted longer than their previous ones, and it had a different energy. Steve felt a thrill of desire and anticipation when Tony’s hand slipped under the hem of his shirt to trace patterns against the skin of his lower back. Tony paused and leaned back. 

“Is this okay?” he asked softly.

“More than okay,” Steve said. He leaned forward and kissed Tony again, once on the lips before starting a slow path behind his ear and working down his neck to his collarbone.

“When did you get so good at this?” Tony asked, his voice a little breathy. He pulled Steve closer and slid his hand higher up Steve’s back. 

“I’ve been practicing,” Steve said, cheekily. “You should know. You were there.”

Beneath him, Tony laughed. He caught Steve’s chin and pulled him closer so their mouths could meet again. They stayed that way, tangled together on the bed, for a few minutes.

Steve eventually pulled back and pressed his forehead against Tony’s. He was breathing heavily and looking down at Tony as if he were something… special. 

“You’re so beautiful,” Steve whispered. Tony blushed. 

Steve had started to expect that by now, especially when he said things Tony wasn’t expecting. Tony stared at Steve, his brown eyes darkening even more with want.

“That’s one of the hottest things you’ve ever said to me.”

“Really?” Steve said, no small amount of skepticism in his voice. “That?”

Tony hummed a non-committal confirmation and Steve shook his head. 

“Well, that just can’t stand,” Steve said rolling his eyes.

“Oh, no?”

“No,” Steve kissed Tony quickly, just a peck on the lips. “Mmm… so what if I said we could be doing this…” Steve leaned in slowly and waited for Tony to meet him in a much deeper kiss. This kiss had _purpose_. Steve broke away to finish his sentence. “While wearing much less clothing?”

Tony’s eyes flashed with both want and surprise. Steve smirked.

“Okay, yes.” Tony scrambled to push Steve’s shirt up. “That was hotter.”

Steve laughed and leaned back to pull his shirt over his head. Before he’d even dropped the t-shirt to the ground, Tony had hauled him closer.

“You’re… perfect,” Tony breathed between kisses. “It’s unbelievable.”

Steve didn’t know what to say to that. The dim lighting of the room made it easier to get past the discomfort that might otherwise accompany being shirtless and on display. And the way Tony was looking at him? Well, that sent any lingering hesitation or awkwardness out the window, entirely.

“You know I feel the same way about you,” Steve said, finally. It was the truth, after all. He kissed Tony again and this time his hands were the ones toying with the hem of Tony’s shirt. 

That was when things shifted. Tony tensed up, and Steve froze. 

“Tony?”

“Yeah, sorry, I — ”

“Hey,” Steve cupped Tony’s cheek in his hand, trying to get Tony to look at him. “You don’t have to apologize. If it’s too fast — ”

Tony’s next words caught in his throat. Steve Rogers, of all people, thought he was moving _too fast_ for Tony Stark. What kind of parallel universe were they living in?

“It’s not that,” Tony said quickly, once he could string his thoughts together semi-logically. “It’s not. I want this. It’s just…” He really didn’t want to go into this. There wasn’t any way around it, but he still didn’t want to deal with it.

“You can talk to me,” Steve said. “What’s going on?”

“I just—” Tony took a deep breath like he was preparing himself for some kind of terrible admission. “I’m covered in scars. Between the shrapnel, the arc reactor, the cave, the fight with Stane, the car crash and fight with Vanko, the palladium poisoning, the other fight with Vanko, the fight with Killian, various explosions and firefights, heart surgery, and that doesn't even touch on the aliens.” Tony sighed and took a deep breath before continuing.

“It’s not something you’re going to miss, is all. And it’s easy not to think about it because I’m in the suit for most of these battles, so it doesn't seem like I’d be getting banged up. Except when you’re wearing a metal suit and things inside break or bend the wrong way there’s not really any way to avoid being scraped or um… stabbed every now and then. So I just, um, wanted to warn you.”

There was a deep crease between Steve’s eyebrows now, and that definitely hadn’t been Tony’s intention.

“Tony, please tell me you don’t think that’s going to change the way I feel about you.”

“They’re unsettling and upsetting. It wouldn’t be unreasonable to — ”

“Tony Stark,” Steve pressed his lips together in a thin line. His eyes were trained on Tony’s carefully and candidly. “First, scars are not going to send me running for the hills. Second, there is nothing about you that’s going to change the way I feel about you.”

“Steve,” Tony said, breathing deeply. Steve could tell he was gearing up for a debate. 

Steve pressed his hand to Tony’s chest to stop him. 

“With that said, if you don’t feel comfortable we don’t — ”

Tony put his hand over Steve’s where it rested on his chest.

“No, I trust you,” Tony said. “I just didn’t want to blindside you.”

Tony kept surprising Steve with his thoughtfulness, but with this Steve would have been fine without the warning.

“It wouldn’t have mattered,” Steve said. Tony was watching him so intently that he wanted to be clear what he meant. “It _won’t_ matter. I’m still going to want you.” Tony didn’t look convinced. His brown eyes were wide and more vulnerable than usual. Steve smiled a little; he didn’t think Tony was getting it. 

“Tony, you’re gorgeous. Truly, ridiculously attractive. But here’s the thing — that’s not the only reason I want to be with you. Hell, that’s not even the main reason. I want you because of who you are. And everything else? The scars, the bad days — all of it? That’s part of who you are because you’re a hero. An actual saves-the-world-on-a-regular-basis superhero. And I’m never going to want you _in spite of_ any of that. I’m always going to want you, at least in part, because of it. Okay?”

Tony stared at him for two more heartbeats. 

“Okay,” Tony said, smiling just a little.

“Okay? I feel like you forget it sometimes because it’s your life, but… you’re _amazing_.”

Tony laughed and pulled Steve close to kiss him. 

“I’m serious,” Steve protested, trying to pull back. Tony followed, and Steve certainly wasn’t complaining. They were both laughing now. 

“I know you are,” Tony said. He still seemed a little in awe of the idea. “Doesn’t mean I get why — ”

Steve silenced him with another kiss. 

Two minutes later, Tony’s shirt joined Steve’s on the floor next to the bed. 

* * *

The fact that their first few weeks were incident-free, however, didn’t mean they didn’t fight. 

In fact, the other Avengers would probably argue it meant that when Steve and Tony finally fought it was somehow _worse_. 

It had started somewhat accidentally if Tony was honest. He hadn’t been looking to catch Steve in a lie. But sometimes things just work out that way. 

He’d gone to D.C. to meet with some clean energy lobbyists and had added a stop at SHIELD’s Triskelion headquarters to the trip. He needed to meet with Fury about the repulsor tech thrusters for the helicarriers. Fury was more than willing to make the time for him, which was something Tony was still getting used to. 

“Thanks for this, Stark,” Fury said as he shook his hand at the end of the meeting. “It’s nice to have you helping us willingly. For once, you’re not the most difficult Avenger I’m trying to work with.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up at that. Clint and Natasha both regularly went off on missions, so Tony doubted it was them. Steve hadn’t mentioned fielding off SHIELD lately, and he still went out on missions, however infrequently. That left Bruce and Thor. Thor wasn’t on Earth which, yeah, could make him difficult to work with. But Tony thought it was probably Bruce; he was actually a pretty hard guy to tie down. 

“Really? And who, might I ask, is my successor?” 

Tony asked the question fully expecting Fury to deflect. 

“Normally, I wouldn’t tell you, but if he does decide to come out here, I’m sure he’ll tell you all where he’s going. Hell, maybe you can convince the good Captain to accept my offer.”

Tony had to be misunderstanding.

“You mean _Steve_?”

“Unless you know another Captain,” Fury rolled his eyes. “I can’t figure out why he won’t commit to leading the launch of the STRIKE team. He’s the best person for the job. You can ask him about it; maybe it’ll help him to talk it out.”

“Somehow I doubt it,” Tony said with no small amount of bitterness in his voice. “He’s not big on sharing.”

“Well, I’m holding out hope that he’ll come around,” Fury said. “All he’ll say is he’s ‘considering it,’ so I’ll take a good word if you can give it.”

“I’m not making any promises,” Tony said and bolted from Fury’s office. 

And because Tony was Tony, he proceeded to think about the exchange with Fury for the duration of his flight, the landing, and the drive back to the tower. By the time he got there, he was hoping to have moved past it. He hadn’t. 

It was just… he’d been trying so _hard_ with Steve. He wanted to do things right. Tony knew he didn’t have any idea what he was doing with relationships, but this one seemed obvious to him.

He’d dug into SHIELD’s folders on the flight back to New York. The STRIKE team Fury referenced had been in the works for months. That meant Fury probably reached out to Steve weeks ago, if not more.

Tony wasn’t great at relationships, but even _he_ knew that considering a job offer that would move you 200 plus miles away from your partner was something that warranted a _discussion_ at the very least.

So, yeah, he was a little hurt. He’d only been in D.C. for three days, but he’d _missed_ Steve and he’d been looking forward to having dinner together when he got back. He’d wanted to convince Steve to eat in the lab with him to minimize the possibility of the other Avengers interrupting them as they tried to catch up on the past few days. Now, that had all gone out the window and Tony was just… disappointed and frustrated.

Naturally, he went straight to the workshop. He worked for an hour before Steve caught on that he was back in the tower.

“Sir, Captain Rogers has asked your location. Shall I deflect?”

“No, J,” Tony sighed. “You can tell him.”

“Yes, sir.”

Steve came bounding down the stairs a couple minutes later with a wide smile on his face.

“Hey, stranger,” Steve said. “Long time no see.”

“Hey.” Tony couldn’t help but offer a small smile, not when Steve was looking at him like that. 

He was so _confused_. How could Steve look at him like _that_ and just… not talk to him.

“I was expecting you earlier, but JARVIS said you came straight down here so I was worried something came up…” Steve scanned the screens Tony was still working at. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah. Just needed to take care of a few things.”

“Is it anything important?”

“Sort of.” Tony shrugged. “It’s for SHIELD.”

“And it’s more important than eating dinner with me?” Steve said, clearly teasing. For whatever reason, that struck a nerve with Tony.

“I don’t know, Steve. You tell me,” he snapped.

Steve froze, less than a foot away from Tony now. He seemed to catch on to the fact that something was wrong. 

“I’m… not sure I’m following.” 

“Oh, really? Are you sure you don’t know exactly what it’s like having SHIELD business that’s more important than our relationship?”

Steve’s blue eyes flashed defensively. Tony already knew things were heading south.

“No, I can’t say I do,” Steve said. His voice was measured. “Do you want to tell me what this is about?”

“If you think about it, I’m sure you can figure it out,” Tony muttered, fully aware of how immature it sounded. 

“Tony, if we’re going to fight don’t you think you should at least tell me what’s going on?”

Tony finally turned away from the screens to look at Steve squarely. 

“Yes. And if we’re together, don’t you think you should at least tell me when you’re considering taking a job that’s over 200 miles away?”

Steve’s eyes widened in understanding, and he relaxed a little. Tony didn’t really see what called for that response.

“Oh, that’s what you’re talking about?” Steve smiled a little. “Tony that’s — ”

“Of course that’s what I’m talking about. Unless there’s _another_ offer you’ve just opted not to talk to me about, despite claiming that you’re in this long-term.”

“Woah, Tony — ”

“Don’t ‘Tony’ me, Steve.”

“I’m not — okay. I’m sorry for not telling you about this sooner. But honestly, I didn’t think it mattered.” 

“Why wouldn’t it matter, Steve? And why wouldn’t you _tell me_? I had to find out from Fury!” 

“I never meant for that to happen.”

“Oh, good. It’s great to know you intended to _continue_ lying to me for as long as you could.” 

“That’s not what I meant,” Steve said. Tony could hear the frustration building in his voice. _Good,_ he thought, selfishly.

“And what did you mean?”

“Obviously I didn’t mean for you to find out from Fury. And of course I would have talked to you about something like this before actually agreeing to move anywhere.”

“Well that’s a huge relief,” Tony said, scoffing. “It’s good to know that you’d let me know you were leaving before you started packing boxes. I appreciate the consideration.”

“Tony, come on. You can’t seriously believe I would have moved to D.C. without talking to you about this.”

“That’s my point, Steve. You didn’t talk to me about it. Why am I supposed to believe you ever intended to talk to me about it?”

“Because I’m telling you I did!” Steve said, his voice getting louder with frustration.

“Well, I don’t believe you!” Tony yelled, dropping his pen onto the steel countertop.“I don’t believe you,” he repeated, more sad than upset.

Steve stared at him, his mouth partially open as if he were about to reply. He didn't say anything. Tony hated how _hurt_ Steve looked, and he hated that he’d caused it even more. 

“I’m not really sure how I can make you believe that,” Steve said finally. He was looking at Tony like he was going to have the answers.

He didn’t. 

Tony just shrugged. He was tired of this fight already; he turned back to his monitors and started typing in some lines of code.

“Okay, well,” Steve sighed. “I guess I’m going to go because it doesn’t seem like you want to talk about this now.”

Tony didn’t reply. Steve left.

That fight preceded two days of miserableness in the Avengers Tower.

Tony avoided common areas like the plague and Steve was barely spotted in the tower at all. 

From Tony’s not-at-all-paranoid surveillance, he knew Steve went out for a run at 4 each morning and returned to the tower by midnight each night. So he was _safe_ , at least.

It got to the point that Nat came down to Tony’s lab and cornered him. 

“What the hell is going on with you and Steve?” she demanded without any sort of greeting.

“Hey, Nat, good to see you too.”

“Yeah, it’d be great to see you, Tony. If you weren’t absolutely miserable. Look at you,” she tipped her chin at him. “Have you slept at all in the past two days?”

“I don’t see how that’s relevant.”

“You _miss_ him. He clearly misses you. He’s only here _four hours a night_ and he spends two of them in the kitchen hoping to catch you when you come up for coffee.” 

Tony was surprised to hear that.

“So what the hell is the problem?” Nat asked finally. “Neither of you want to be fighting. So why can’t you make up?”

“Nat, why don’t you mind your own business?”

“I hate to break it to you, but you’ve made this our business. It’s putting everyone on edge.”

“She’s right you know,” Clint’s disembodied voice drifted through the vent in the corner of the workshop.

“Seriously, Clint? You’re spying in my lab now?”

“I was trying to figure out why mom and dad are fighting,” Clint said, kicking the vent grate down and dropping from the ceiling into the lab. “Same as Nat. I just opted for the less direct route.”

Natasha rolled her eyes. 

“Just tell us what the hell is going on,” she said. “Maybe we can help.”

“It’s really none of your business,” Tony said. “Seriously, it’s between me and Steve. In all honesty, I probably overreacted about something pretty minor, but — ” 

“Well, do you think you can talk to him about it then?” Clint whined. “Everything is weird without you guys.”

“Clint, get out of here,” Nat said, ushering him to the stairs. 

“And stop hanging out in the vents or I’ll have to start monitoring them!” Tony added. He hoped that meant he was off the hook and he turned back to his screen. 

It didn’t. Nat came back over to him and put a hand on his shoulder. He turned to face her.

“He misses you, Tony,” she said, her voice soft. “But he’s not going to come down here unless he’s invited. I don’t know what happened, but he insists it’s your space and the last time he was here it wasn’t what you wanted. So he’s going to keep staking out the kitchen every night until he gets to talk to you. 

He _misses you._ And I think you miss him, too,” she said plainly. “Just… think about it, okay?” 

Tony nodded. Nat looked pleased with herself. She smiled a little and squeezed his shoulder. 

“Try to get some rest too, okay? We’re worried about you.”

“I’m fine,” Tony said, rolling his eyes. “It’s been worse than this before. You of all people would know that.”

Nat smiled at him, but it was a fragile thing. 

“Not since Steve.”

Yeah. Tony really didn’t have a counterpoint for that. She was right.

“I’ll talk to him soon,” Tony said. “Really.”

Nat nodded. She started to leave and hesitated.

“I want to be clear,” she said. “You don’t _have_ to be with Steve. The team isn’t going to start picking sides if something… permanent happens between the two of you. We care about you both, and we want you to be happy. It’s okay if that’s not necessarily with each other, but you should probably still talk about whatever happened.”

Tony didn’t know why it meant so much to him to hear that.

“Thanks, Nat.”

Natasha nodded. She stepped close and gave Tony a quick hug. He hadn’t expected it, but he definitely appreciated it.

“Rest,” she said when she moved away. “That’s an order.”

Tony sighed. Natasha left and Tony spent a few minutes thinking about Steve sitting upstairs in the kitchen at 2 a.m. before deciding that yeah, maybe a quick nap wouldn’t be the worst idea in the world.

He crashed on the couch in the workshop and woke up at 1:15 a.m. Wasn’t that just perfect?

“JARVIS, where’s Steve?”

“Captain Rogers is upstairs in the kitchen.”

Tony sighed. 

“Is he alone?”

“Yes, sir.”

He supposed this was as good a time as any, no matter how much he wanted to avoid it. Tony grabbed a power bar and ate it quickly while reading over the headlines of the past few hours. Nothing catastrophic was happening. He downed half a water bottle and ran a hand through his hair.

“J?”

“Captain Rogers is still in the kitchen.”

“What’s he doing?”

“He has his sketchbook with him,” JARVIS informed him.

“Thanks, buddy.”

“Of course, sir.”

Tony took a deep breath and climbed the stairs. He walked down the dark hallway toward the warm yellow light of the kitchen. Steve was, of course, slouched in a barstool at the counter. He’d expected that.

He hadn’t expected to be able to see the tension in Steve’s shoulders from so far away. 

He hadn’t wanted any of this. 

Resigned, he shuffled into the kitchen. Steve perked up when he heard Tony and looked over his shoulder. After a moment of shock, Steve seemed to find his voice. 

“Hey,” he said, looking Tony over. 

Steve looked so _tired_. Tony didn’t even know that was possible. Tony didn’t even want to think about what he must look like.

“Hey.”

There was a moment of silence.

“I think I owe you an — ”

“I’m sorry — ” Steve said, cutting Tony off. Steve paused, thought about Tony’s words, and shook his head. “You don’t owe me anything. I was wrong.”

“But I could have handled it better.”

“You were hurt,” Steve said as if that not only explained everything but also made it okay.

“That doesn’t make it right to take it out on you.”

“I shouldn’t have kept the SHIELD offer from you,” Steve said finally. “I should have told you about it the first time Fury approached me. I just… we’d only been together for a month and a half. I knew I didn’t have any interest in going to D.C., and it’s not like Fury can make me. I figured it wouldn’t matter if I didn’t tell you.

“But I should have guessed you’d find out about it one way or another. I should have told you,” Steve looked at him. “I’m sorry.”

Tony didn’t know what to say to that. He wasn’t really used to being on the receiving end of apologies. Hell, he wasn’t even used to being justified in his anger.

“It’s okay,” he said, finally. “Like I said, I could have handled it better once I knew.”

“You found out I was keeping something from you,” Steve said. He started to say something else but stopped himself.

“What?” Tony encouraged, curious. Steve’s expression somehow became sadder.

“Tony, did you actually think I would just move to D.C. without talking to you first? Do you really believe I value our relationship so little?”

That was the real question. The one he’d been wrestling with for the past two days because when it came down to it, that’s what he was actually afraid of: Steve leaving. 

Now Steve was asking, and he needed an answer.

“No,” Tony said, surprising himself with the firmness of his answer. “No. I didn’t and I _don’t_ believe that.”

“Okay,” Steve nodded. “That’s good because I absolutely wouldn’t have gone anywhere without talking to you first. You’re the most important person in my life right now.”

“So then talk to me,” Tony said, sighing. He didn’t want to think about Steve going to D.C., but he’d rather know than not know.

“About…?” Steve’s brow furrowed until he realized what Tony meant. “About the STRIKE team, thing?”

Tony nodded. 

“Fury wanted me to help train and launch a specialized SHIELD team for tactical interventions in international emergencies,” Steve explained. “The team would be based out of the Triskelion, but you already know that part, which is why I told Fury no — ”

“Wait, what?” Tony was confused.

“The team is based in D.C.?”

“Fury said you were considering it,” Tony explained. 

“What I actually said when he asked back in August was, ‘No, I’m happy where I am in New York, but I appreciate the offer.’ Fury didn’t like that answer much, so every now and then he asks me again. Telling him I’ll think about it gets him to leave me alone for a couple weeks. But my answer hasn’t changed.”

“Oh.”

“I don’t expect you to just take my word for it; I haven’t exactly given you a reason to trust me. But I was never considering leaving.”

“I believe you,” Tony said. “I’m sorry I took Fury’s word for it without talking to you first.”

“I’m sorry you had to hear it from Fury instead of me.”

Tony paused. Steve had dark circles under his eyes and his hair was sticking up in ways that suggested Steve had been running his hands through it repeatedly. 

“You look terrible,” Tony said without thinking. 

Steve laughed. It wasn’t exactly what Tony was going for, but he was happy that Steve was finally smiling.

“Yeah, I hear that’s what happens when you start skipping sleep in favor of waiting up for a certain genius to come talk to you.”

Tony knew he melted a little at that. He’d just missed Steve. It’d been something like five days since he’d last touched him. It felt like forever.

Tony reached out and grabbed Steve’s hand. He pulled Steve up off the barstool and into a hug. Steve pulled him close even as he relaxed in Tony’s arms.

“I’m sorry I overreacted,” Tony said it softly into Steve’s neck. “I just didn’t want to lose you.”

“I don’t want to lose you either,” Steve squeezed him tighter. “I’m not going anywhere. I missed you so much.”

They stood there, arms locked around each other, for a few more minutes before Tony broke the silence they’d fallen into. 

“You need to sleep,” he whispered.

Steve shrugged. 

“No, come on,” Tony pulled back to look at Steve. “Sleep is important.”

“Yeah, okay,” Steve said. His blue eyes were much clearer than they’d been at the start of this conversation. “You need to sleep too, though.”

Tony nodded, grabbed Steve by the wrist, and towed him to his room. He paused at his door as if he suddenly realized something. 

“You don’t have to stay, um. But you can if you want. I just usually sleep better when…” Blushing, Tony looked away from Steve. 

Steve kissed Tony’s forehead. 

“I sleep better when you’re there, too,” Steve said. “I’ll stay if that’s okay.”

Tony squeezed his wrist and smiled. He kissed Steve once, quickly. 

“Come on.”

* * *

Late the next morning, Natasha walked into the kitchen and paused when she spotted the large gift basket wrapped in cellophane. The card hanging from the ribbon read, “Sorry you have to put up with us. Love, M  & D.” It took her half a second to puzzle through what it meant before she remembered that Clint had let it slip yesterday that the other team members sometimes refer to Steve and Tony as mom and dad.

Nat looked into the basket and found her favorite dark chocolate, some premium vodka, and a pair of knives. That was all obviously hers. But Tony had also included stuff for Clint and Bruce: Bruce’s favorite tea and trail mix; and an assortment of the reinforced arrowheads Clint always seems to run out of and the white cheddar Cheez-Its he inhaled regularly.

It was incredibly thoughtful. Natasha just hoped that meant they’d worked through whatever fight they were having. 

Later, Nat found them laughing together in the kitchen and breathed a relieved sigh. They’d gotten past the first fight. She knew they were going to be fine. Even if, inevitably, the press demanded to know all about it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... what do you think?
> 
> I know this chapter is a MONSTER so I appreciate you sticking it out to the end lol. 
> 
> What I really want to know is... do you think the fight was believable? It took me *forever* to figure out what to have these two fight over. I do not do well with having my couples fight lol. So when I finally came up with something, I ran with it. Was it too predictable? Or did it feel authentic and believable? Beyond that, what did you think of the rest of the chapter? 
> 
> Thanks so much for reading! I love you guys; you keep me writing <3.


	12. Fifty-Four Minutes and Damning the Consequences

_Well, this is one hell of a way to kick off a Tuesday,_ Tony thought, bitterly. He was trapped in the darkness of his powerless suit. The suit had an emergency release feature, of course, but he wasn’t exactly looking to get out it, considering half a building had just fallen on on top of him.

The latest band of undercover highly elite spies to visit New York had decided that not only would they try to pull off a poor excuse for an assassination attempt — it was so poor, in fact, that even the Avengers who’d ultimately _thwarted_ said assassination attempt weren’t entirely sure who the intended target was — but also try to level a city block or two at the same time.

Fortunately, the Avengers were on the scene in seconds. Natasha and Clint were on the SHIELD mission to protect the dozen diplomats thought to be potential targets for the assassins, and Steve and Tony had joined the fray shortly after the first explosion. So far, by Tony’s count, or technically by JARVIS’s count, they hadn’t lost a single civilian.

That was, at least in part, because this building had fallen on Tony right after he finished ushering the final innocent person out the door.

Tony wasn’t certain, but he thought that some piece of falling debris had punched through the arc reactor powering the suit because of the sheer pressure of the falling concrete, studs, and drywall. It wasn’t life-threatening, of course, the reactors that power the suits were separate from the one in his chest. But it was unfortunate.

His comms were dead.

Steve probably thought he was dead. So. That sucked.

He wasn’t dead though. At worst, he had some scrapes and bruises. He tasted blood, so he thought that meant his forehead was bleeding? Maybe his nose. He had a raging headache. 

His shin was also stinging, so he figured something had happened there. There was a stabbing pain in his right side that wasn’t promising, but he didn’t think the suit had been fully breached. 

So he was fine. Really.

He just couldn’t tell anyone that.

* * *

The real problem with the comms being dead, in Tony’s opinion, was that the others couldn’t talk to him. He was, by far, the person with the most knowledge on structural collapses and just structures in general. They probably didn’t know where to begin with getting the building off of him. Which explained why it had been twenty-two minutes since the explosion.

Twenty-two minutes was _too long_ to be trapped in dark silence with nothing but his own spiraling thoughts.

He tried thinking of Steve, and he just worried. He worried Steve thought he was dead and was losing his mind a couple hundred feet from where Tony was buried in rubble. He worried Steve was going to be pissed at him — that was all but inevitable, but he didn’t want to think about it _now_. Mostly, he worried that Steve was hurting and there wasn’t anything he could do about it.

It was incredibly frustrating. It continued for far too long until finally, another thirty minutes later, something shifted above him. 

When enough debris was moved that the sunlight reached him, it took his eyes a minute to adjust to the brightness. By the time they did, he’d processed enough to realize that apparently the team had called in the Hulk. Rare, but not a terrible idea as ideas went. He’d probably just been sifting through debris until he found Tony. 

It took another minute until he was completely uncovered. Before Tony could use the emergency release to get out of the suit, he was being carried by a large, very green hand and then dropped on to the concrete. 

_Ow._

He laid there for a second with his ears ringing before he fumbled at the emergency release. 

“Do _not_ tell me to calm down, Natasha,” he heard Steve’s voice over the commotion around him. “And Clint get the _hell_ out of my way before I _move you_.”

Tony finally found the release panel and tapped out the proper sequence to open the suit. The faceplate released first and he was assaulted by more light.

“Tony?” Steve’s voice sounded more than a little strangled.

“Yep, it’s me,” Tony confirmed, squinting up at the sky. Half a second later, Steve’s very concerned face was in his line of sight. “I’m fine, mostly. Ignore the blood.”

“What the actual _fuck_ Tony?” Steve demanded as he dropped to his knees beside Tony as the suit continued to release in sections. “You went dark. We thought you were _dead_.”

“Yeah, well I’m not sure that’s entirely my fault considering a _building_ fell on me.”

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, reaching out to touch Tony’s face. The helmet was off now, and the chest piece had separated into two parts. Tony shifted to move the metal off of himself and winced when something shifted in his side. 

“Mostly, yeah. Um. Can you help me with the uh — ” he gestured at the front piece of the suit, where he could now see that a piece of rebar was sticking out of the destroyed arc reactor. He supposed he was lucky the rebar hadn’t been long enough to actually skewer him. “It’s just dead weight right now.”

Steve quickly pulled it off of him. Tony nodded. That was better. With the chest piece missing, Tony was able to shrug out of the arms of the suit. That was when he realized there was a problem.

“Okay. Now I need your help with this piece,” Tony said, dropping his hand on the metal protecting his abdomen. “I’m pretty sure it’s stuck.”

“Stuck on _what,_ Tony?” Steve wanted to help but not if he was going to accidentally kill Tony in the process.

“Let me rephrase,” Tony sighed. “Something is stabbing me in the side. There’s nothing to be done about it. The suit has to come off. So, please?” He looked at Steve calmly.

“Fine,” Steve said. He found his grip on the piece of the suit easily. Steve lifted it straight up and tried not to cause any more damage. Tony winced but otherwise said nothing.

With the suit out of the way, he could see a growing spot of blood on his right side, but it wasn’t alarming enough to need immediate attention.

Now that Tony was half-free of the suit, he realized the rest of the release protocol wasn’t occurring exactly the way it was meant to. The right leg sections had unfolded properly and he could bend his right knee again. That was nice. 

His lower left leg was still entirely trapped. Tony was pretty sure that had something to do with the fact that the shin piece was severely scraped, compressed, and dented. On top of that, the knee joint had been punctured by some metal which meant it wasn’t coming off either.

“Tony?” Steve said. Tony wasn't sure he’d ever heard nerves so clearly in Steve’s voice before. “Is the suit supposed to come off…” 

Tony glanced at him and nodded. He sat up, left leg trapped in a metal shell that no longer properly obeyed him and that he certainly couldn’t lift on his own. Good thing his boyfriend was arguably the strongest Avenger currently on the planet. 

“What do you want me to do?” Steve already had his game-face on.

“Get the rest of this shit out of the way,” Tony said, waving his arms at the other parts of the suit around him. 

Steve dutifully dragged the huge hunks of metal that once made up the latest iteration of the Iron Man suit into a small pile a couple feet to Tony’s left. Now, the problem of the lower left leg.

“Now what?” Steve asked. He was crouched at Tony’s side.

“Well ordinarily I’d ask JARVIS to do a scan and let me know what’s going on down there because I can’t really feel anything — ”

“Tony?” Steve’s voice was strangled. 

“Not like that, Steve,” Tony said. He rolled his eyes. “I can feel my leg. It kind of stings? But not enough for me to think there’s something seriously wrong.”

“So…?”

“Well you could try to separate it by hand,” Tony said. It wasn’t the most unreasonable thing in the world. “But I think the best bet is going to be your shield. Got it on hand, by chance?” 

“You want me to…”

“Beat the shit out of suit until it comes off? Yes.”

“Tony, I could seriously hurt you.”

“You’re not going to. It’s clearly already busted up. As soon as you dislodge whatever fucked with the quick release, it’s going to come off.”

“How sure are you about that?”

“Oh, about 72 percent. Give or take.”

“Tony.”

“Steve.” Tony smiled at him a little. “Do you have any better suggestions?”

Steve glared at him. 

“No, of course I don’t. You’re the genius. But seriously? Smashing it with the shield? That really _does_ sound like something I would come up with.” He rolled his eyes. “But whatever, we’ll try it.”

“Great. Let’s go.”

Steve hesitated.

“Steve, it’s going to be fine.”

“Yeah, it will be,” Steve agreed. “As soon as we, um. Actually locate the shield.” 

“What do you mean?”

“A building _fell on you_ ,” Steve said as if Tony needed to be reminded. “I’m not ashamed to say I have no fucking clue where the shield is.”

Tony stared at him. He wasn’t really sure what to say to that. 

On top of not knowing where the shield was, Tony hadn’t ever heard Steve use this kind of language in the field before. He’d heard it from time to time in tower common areas, more often in the gym, and _most_ often in the bedroom. 

Steve upheld different standards when he went into the field as Cap. Most offensive language was off-limits because Captain America was a role model. Captain America represented more than just Steve Rogers and Steve always carried himself accordingly. 

That was when it finally clicked. 

At some point in the course of the past hour’s events, Captain America had exited stage left. Steve Rogers and Steve Rogers _only_ was the one sitting beside him now. It was strangely touching. Tony looked at him closely. 

“Hey,” he said, putting his hand over Steve’s on the ground. “I’m alright.”

At his words, Steve’s blue eyes snapped up to meet Tony’s gaze. A heartbeat later, a shuddering breath escaped his lips. Steve slumped forward slightly — not enough that anyone but Tony would notice, but enough that Tony _noticed._

“I thought you were dead,” Steve whispered. “I don’t even know how long it was, but it was too long.”

_Fifty-four minutes,_ Tony thought, sadly. He knew it had probably felt like a lot longer.

“I’m not dead, though,” Tony said, his voice soft. “I’m very much alive. Even with one leg trapped in a hunk of metal.”

Steve laughed — barely. It was the exact laugh Tony remembered from after he woke up on the cement after they’d won the Battle of New York. A strained but relieved laugh that was hardly much of a laugh at all. They’d come so far since then. It was kind of unbelievable.

“You’re okay,” Steve said. He didn’t sound convinced. 

“Yeah, Steve. I am.” 

Steve still looked a little lost. Tony reached up and pushed some of Steve’s dirty, sweaty hair back from his forehead. Tony didn’t know when Steve lost the cowl, but he was grateful for it. Steve blinked at him. “Come here,” Tony said. His tone made his intentions clear.

“What? No,” Steve said. His face crumpled in confusion. He looked around. The area was devoid of people, but it’d be naive to think they could get away with anything here. He was sure there were news helicopters circling. “We’re — ”

“I don’t care,” Tony said, the words a little rushed. “Do you?”

Steve studied him. Tony didn’t know what he was looking for, but he must have found it. The next thing Tony knew, he was being kissed, deeply and unrelentingly. Tony gasped into Steve’s mouth and buried his hands in Steve’s hair. It was far too passionate of a display, but Tony didn't think it really mattered in the grand scheme of things.

A second later, as easily as the switch flipped, it flipped back, and they parted.

“You good?” Tony asked, looking Steve over. He realized he hadn't actually checked to make sure Steve was unhurt.

“Perfect,” Steve said. Tony didn’t think he actually understood the question, but he seemed unharmed so Tony wasn’t about to press the issue. “Let’s get that off you,” he said, tipping his chin toward the malfunctioning piece of the suit on Tony’s leg. He touched his ear. Before Tony could ask, Steve started speaking.

“Does anyone have eyes on the shield?” Steve asked.

Oh, so he’d turned off comms. Interesting.

There was a beat of silence. 

“Clint knows where it is. They’re grabbing it now.”

Tony nodded. His head still hurt. 

“Lie back down,” Steve said. He was too perceptive for his own good.

“I’m fine — ”

“You’re in pain, and there’s nothing to do but wait.”

Rather than argue with him, Tony decided to comply. It was just easier.

Steve reached out, took his hand, and squeezed it tightly in silent thanks.

“Here, Steve,” Nat said. She passed him the shield.

“Thank you,” Steve said, earnest as ever.

She nodded and returned to where she was helping keep the area clear.

“Okay,” Steve said staring at Tony’s leg. “What exactly do you want me to do?”

“Just try to hit the knee joint with enough force to dislodge it. I’m pretty sure that’s the problem.”

“Seriously?”

“That, and try to calibrate so you don’t, you know, take my leg off at the knee.”

“Tony!”

Tony laughed, loudly. “Okay, I’m sorry. Bad joke.” He grinned at Steve unapologetically. “Come on, it’s going to be fine.”

“I hate this.” Steve knelt beside his leg. 

“I know.” 

“If this goes terribly, I’m blaming you.”

“Be my guest.” It wasn’t true. They both knew he’d blame himself. 

Steve raised the shield and brought it down with enough force that Tony felt the alloy give a little. It wasn’t enough. Steve sighed deeply. 

“Just once more,” Tony said encouragingly. “It’s almost off.”

“I hate this even more.”

“Just do it.”

Steve lifted the shield again and slammed it back down onto the leg of the suit. This time the metal made an awful sound of protest before splitting open the way it was meant to before it’d been crushed by a building. 

Steve looked at it. The surprise on his face quickly morphed into horror.

“Shit, Tony.”

Yeah, now that it was exposed to the air his leg was screaming a little. Or maybe that was just because the metal had moved. 

“It’s fine,” he said quickly. “Really. It just looks bad.”

Steve looked at him with his brows furrowed skeptically.

“I’m serious,” Tony weighed the pro and cons of bending his knee while he assessed the extent of the damage. He figured it’d be fine. “All things considered, it could have been a lot worse.”

“Tony, there’s a huge gash in your knee and blood running down your leg.”

“True, but it’s not deep. Plus it missed the kneecap.”

“And this?” Steve asked, gesturing at the area beneath the knee that looked gruesome but wasn’t actually that bad. Tony bent his knee so he could get a closer look. It stung, but he didn’t think it made things any worse.

“That is what happens when something cuts away the fabric that normally separates my skin from the inside of the suit. That plus direct pressure just kind of… sloughed off the skin.”

“Jesus.”

“Yeah, it’s not pretty,” Tony said with a shrug. “It’s also not life-threatening, which means we’re in business.”

“In what business, exactly?”

“In the business of you taking me home,” Tony said, wiggling his eyebrows flirtatiously. 

“Tony, be serious. You need a doctor.”

“Yeah, that’s not really an option at the moment. We can have someone brought to the tower later.”

“What do you mean?” Steve asked, confused. “Of course it’s an option. There’s a hospital like two blocks from here.”

“Steve, don’t take this the wrong way because I certainly don’t regret any of it, but we just made out in a _very_ public place with helicopters circling us and watching our every move. All the prep we did for when people finally found out about us? That’s where we are now. It’s time to lay low and let the PR people do their thing.”

Steve glanced up and saw that Tony was right. Before there’d been the standard two news choppers. Now there were four. 

“Okay,” Steve said finally. “What do you want me to do?”

“Help me up, for starters,” Tony said. “Then get me to whatever car Pepper has no doubt sent for us. Get the rest of the team, too. Paparazzi hell is about to rain down on our heads.”

“Yeah, that’s not happening,” Steve said, already moving to pick Tony up. “Your leg is all messed up.”

“Steve — ” Tony started to protest. Steve cut him off.

“Is it going to make things worse if I pick you up?”

“I doubt it, but you really don’t need to — ”

Steve had already scooped him up bridal style. Tony thought about protesting but decided against it. He leaned his head against Steve’s shoulder instead. They might as well give the reporters something other than a grainy shot of a kiss to work with.

“You okay?” Steve asked when he deemed Tony had been silent too long.

“Peachy,” Tony said. “That all-black SUV right there? That’s ours.”

Steve took note of the vehicle in question and nodded.

“Avengers, we need to move out. Black SUV at the corner.”

“Everything alright?” Clint asked. 

“Yes, but we need to move fast otherwise you’re all going to be bombarded with questions about how long Tony and I have been together and in what capacity. Natasha, I’m assuming you took care of Bruce?”

“Yes, we’re all good. We’ll meet you at the car.”

* * *

They made it to the tower with little interference. On the way, Tony thanked Bruce and the others for quickly getting the building off of him. Steve also apologized for snapping at Nat and Clint. They both assured him it was okay and completely understandable. Tony knew Steve still felt bad about it though. 

Pepper, who was actually an angel, had a doctor waiting for Tony when they arrived. 

It took about half an hour, but Tony was all patched up in no time. He had six stitches in his right side and three in his knee. His shin was all bandaged up, and he had a huge wad of gauze taped to his forehead just until the bleeding stopped and Steve could apply some butterfly stitches. He was probably going to have some nasty bruises on his head and leg, but all in all, it wasn’t the worst he’d ever had. 

Not that you’d know that based on the way Steve was fussing over him.

“Steve, would you please just sit?” Tony said finally. “I’m fine. I feel great. Why don’t we just watch something mindless on TV?”

That was when Tony made the mistake of turning on the television. The first thing Tony registered was the CNN Live logo in the lower righthand corner of the screen. The second thing was the topic of discussion. 

“You know I really thought they’d come up with something better than, ‘AMERICA’S FAVORITE SUPERHEROES CAUGHT IN PASSIONATE EMBRACE,’ didn’t you?”

Steve chuckled as he flopped onto the couch beside Tony. 

“No, that’s exactly what I expected. ‘Caught’ as if we had something to hide. As if we didn’t make out in a very public place knowing full well what the consequences would be.”

“Well, on the bright side, I'm sure we’ve absolutely delighted the LGBT community,” Tony said.

“Too bad we missed pride this year,” Steve said. “That would have really pissed people off.”

“There’s always next year,” Tony said, smiling. “I think we could get some FOX News anchors' heads to explode. Potentially a few politicians', too.”

Steve smiled and leaned in to press a kiss to Tony’s cheek. 

“You scared me,” he said after a minute. “I’m very glad you’re okay.”

Tony pulled Steve into a tight hug. 

“I know, I’m sorry. But we’re okay now.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay, so now we're at the beginning of October 2013. It's all moving toward something, I promise, and I'm trying to keep it as true to the MCU as I can given the very obvious liberties I'm taking with the characters. 
> 
> But what did you think of this chapter? They're officially out to the world! What do you think is going to happen next? 
> 
> This is one of those instances where, as I was writing, it became apparent that the chapter was almost 6,500 words and needed to be split in two. This was the cut-off point. With that said, it means the next chapter directly follows this one in terms of timing, so what do you think is coming? It'll touch on the media response and also a big new milestone for Steve and Tony.
> 
> Thank you all so much for reading! I love your feedback and reading what you have to say after I post each chapter. I hope you're having a great day!


	13. The Media Circus and Sexy Morning Plans

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is set just a couple days after the kiss that outed Steve and Tony's relationship to the media. It's still the beginning of October 2013. Enjoy!

The media circus that commenced was non-stop for about two days. Tony and Steve stayed in the tower, mostly because Tony was healing and stuck in bed but partially to avoid the reporters camped out in the tower lobby and at every entrance or exit. 

The Avengers who did venture out of the relative safety of the secure tower were inevitably bombarded with questions about Steve and Tony. The masses wanted to know about everything from the first kiss to the first time they slept together to the first fight. Clint, Nat, and Bruce all deflected using the verbatim words of the Stark Industries PR department:

_“No comment. If you have questions about Steve and Tony’s relationship, ask Steve or Tony.”_

The sharks couldn’t do that, of course, because Steve and Tony were hiding from them, also at the orders of the PR department. Someone had arranged a Meet the Press interview for Sunday, but that meant they had to get through the week first. 

Friday morning Steve made the mistake of leaving the tower for his usual morning run. 

The reporters were camped out in the lobby, but he managed to slip out a side exit of the tower without anyone noticing. It was 5:15. That may have been a factor. 

Upon his return, it became clear that word had gotten out. It was almost 7 — he’d had a lot of pent-up energy and he wanted fresh air — and the reporters had tripled in number. It didn’t seem to matter which entrance he considered going in, he was going to run into them regardless. So he chose to go through the main lobby. It was his home, after all. He shouldn’t feel unable to come and go as he pleased. 

It was going to be fine. He just had to walk to the elevator and say ‘no comment.’ Easy.

He almost made it to the elevator. Almost.

He’d already pressed the button and was standing amid a slew of paparazzi with flashing cameras and reporters shouting questions at him. He wasn’t answering anything, and he knew that he was free once he got onto the elevator. Security would never let strangers onto the private elevators.

Unfortunately, before he could enter the relative safety of the elevator, one question was called out above the others.

It struck Steve because it came from one of the well-dressed female journalists who was holding a notepad instead of a giant camera.

“Captain Rogers, do you have anything to say to the people who are alleging that your relationship with Tony Stark sets an unhealthy example for the gay youth of this country, given his public past of sexual dalliances and heavy drinking?”

“ _That_ , I will answer,” Steve said sharply. He turned on his heel to stare down the reporter. He tried to remind himself that she wasn’t the one making the allegations; she was only asking the question. 

It didn’t do much. 

“My response to those people is as follows: You’d do well to remember that Tony Stark and Iron Man — the superhero you all love, and who regularly saves the planet — are one in the same. Show some damn respect. On top of that, I’ll just be frank with you. 

“I grew up in a time period where there were no ‘role models’ for gay youth. So now, if I am one, I don’t really see where you all get off deciding what example I’m allowed to set. I’m in a relationship with someone I care about very much. We’re happy together. As far as I’m concerned that’s the example that matters.

“Finally, Tony Stark is, without a doubt, one of the _most_ publicly mischaracterized and misunderstood people I’ve ever met. That lack of understanding of his personality is in no small part thanks to irresponsible journalists and overeager photographers. So before anyone goes alleging _anything_ they’d do well to ask if they ever had the real story or if they created it.”

Steve hadn’t realized he’d silenced every single person in the lobby with his outburst, but when he finally finished and took a breath it became obvious. Behind him, the elevator dinged repeatedly, which meant someone had been holding the door for too long. 

Steve stepped inside and greeted the security guard.

Before the doors closed, he locked eyes with the reporter whose question he'd answered. She looked apologetic.

“Also, if you could kindly get _out of our house_ we’d really appreciate it.”

* * *

Tony saw the news when the first major news agency broke it at 7:08. He read Steve’s words verbatim and was surprised at how little blowback he foresaw coming out of it. Steve handled himself well in front of the reporters.

At 7:09 he had a text from Steve. Another one followed, and one final one after that.

Steve: _You’re going to see a news story._

_Or a couple hundred news stories._

_They were talking shit about you. I’m not sorry._

Tony laughed outright at that. It was so perfectly _his_ _Steve_.

Tony: _Thanks for defending my honor sweetheart <3\. You’re on all my screens in the lab right now. Definite improvement on the standard news cycle._

He waited a few seconds before sending another message.

_Tony: Change of plans for tonight. Don’t get dressed up. Just meet me in the lab around 6._

_Steve: Will do :)_

* * *

Steve was surprised to find that Tony had already pulled himself out of his work when he made it down to the lab around 6 p.m.

Before he could even get a word out, Tony was smiling at him and speaking.

_“_ What would you say if I told you that instead of going out tonight — even though it’s date night — I ordered takeout and those fancy cupcakes we saw on Twitter when I was stuck in bed earlier this week?” 

“I would say that as long as couch-cuddling, kissing, and more West Wing is involved, I just might consider you a genius.”

“I _am_ a genius, honey.”

Steve rolled his eyes happily and pressed a quick kiss to Tony’s hairline. 

“I know that,” Steve admitted. “But I like refusing to tell you that as much as possible.”

“You do not.”

“What are you talking about? Of course I do.”

“You _regularly_ tell me I’m the smartest person you’ve ever met,” Tony shot back. Steve could _hear_ the smile in his voice despite the fact that Tony’s back was to him as they climbed the stairs to exit the lab.

“That doesn't necessarily make you a genius.”

“Knowing the people you know? I disagree.”

“Just take me to the cupcakes,” Steve ordered in his best Captain-America-means-business voice.

“I’m withholding the cupcakes now,” Tony said petulantly.

“Oh, really?”

“Yes, until I get a proper date-night greeting.”

“So the forehead kiss was insufficient?”

“Entirely.” Tony was rummaging through the bags on the kitchen counter now. Judging by the logos on the bags, Tony ordered shawarma. That always reminded Steve of their first battle, when they started to see each other as they actually were for the first time. “I got food. Enough for like five people because that’s fairly standard for you, and we should have the place to ourselves tonight — ”

“Tony?” Steve tugged Tony around by the elbow until he was looking Steve in the eyes. Much better.

“Yes, dear?”

“Shut up.” Steve tangled his fingers in Tony’s hair as he tipped Tony’s face up slightly for better access to his lips. Tony got with the program quickly; his hands abandoned the counter in favor of fisting in the fabric of Steve’s t-shirt. Tony took a step back until he was pressed against the counter, pulling Steve closer.

Steve broke away first, pressing three kisses along Tony’s jawline. “Acceptable?” he asked, smug. 

“Yeah,” Tony said, somewhat more breathily than he’d intended. He cleared his throat. “Dinner before the cupcakes, though. We have to at least pretend to be adults, sometimes.”

“Oh, of course.” Steve stepped back to allow Tony space to finish sorting out the food while Steve went to the cabinet to gather the dishes. It wasn’t until he had silverware ready that he finally processed what Tony had said before and realized their little kitchen date was proceeding, uninterrupted. “Where is everyone?”

“I kicked them out for the night,” Tony said. “Around the same time I told you not to change and to meet me in the lab.” 

“So you just politely asked for this communal floor tonight?” Steve translated, knowing Tony would never actually kick the other Avengers out of the space that was their home, too. 

Tony shrugged, never one to take praise easily. It probably hadn’t been that difficult. Clint was on a mission, Natasha probably arranged to spend time with Pepper, and Bruce would likely spend time in his lab until he went to bed.

“Thank you,” Steve said, wrapping his arms around Tony as he set up containers of food in some semblance of order. “This is better than going out. After this week…”

“I thought that might be the case,” Tony said. “And I was really feeling a night in.”

“It’s perfect.” He tucked his chin into Tony’s shoulder, putting his lips beside Tony’s ear. “You’re perfect.”

“Come on,” Tony elbowed Steve lightly. He wasn’t quite quick enough to hide the way he stiffened at Steve’s praise and nearly blushed. “I know you’re hungry. Get food, and meet me on the couch.”

They loaded up plates and migrated to the couch. It didn’t take long before the food was gone, the plates were stacked on the table, and Steve abandoned sitting upright on the couch in favor of sprawling out half on top of Tony — carefully, of course. 

“Josh did _not_ deserve that,” Steve said somewhat absently. Tony was playing with Steve’s hair in a way that was both distracting and incredibly relaxing.

“No,” Tony agreed. “He was definitely taking his anger out on Josh unfairly.”

Steve let his eyes fall shut and focused on the feel of Tony’s fingers on his scalp. He was still listening to the show. He was. Really. 

“You falling asleep on me, Rogers?” Tony asked softly, his tone endlessly amused. Steve hadn’t heard anything in a few minutes. It was _possible_ he had dozed off for a minute. “On _date_ night?”

“Of course not,” Steve answered without skipping a beat.

“You can’t lie,” Tony whispered. He tapped a finger to Steve’s lower lip. “You’re smiling right now.”

“It’s possible I fell asleep, briefly.” Steve opened his eyes to find that Tony had turned the lights down at some point. The room was a warm yellow; the only bright light shined from the paused TV. He blinked up at Tony. 

“You’re exhausted, Steve,” Tony ran his hands over Steve’s shoulders. “You should rest. I’ll be here tomorrow. And the day after that. And for however long you want me around, really.”

“I know. But I’m really not that tired—” It was a definite lie. This week had been exhausting, physically and emotionally.

“Steve.”

“It’s date night. I want to be with you.”

“You’ll still be with me if we go to bed,” Tony argued. “That’s what happens when you go to bed with your boyfriend. Or did you miss that part of the contract?”

“You know, now that you mention it, I don’t remember signing a contract,” Steve said around a yawn. “Did it also include an amendment that says you can steal my clothing?” Steve pinched the sleeve of the oversized hoodie Tony was wearing. He hadn’t realized it until they’d been curled up on the couch, but it was definitely _not_ Tony’s.

“You left it in my room. That’s not on me,” Tony said. Steve could see that he was just the slightest bit pink, though. _He’s perfect,_ Steve thought again _._ “You’re pretty forgetful; I have a collection. Get used to it.”

Steve couldn’t help smiling at that. Tony was just… everything.

“I love you,” Steve said. Tony stiffened beneath him, and Steve narrowly avoided wincing. He hadn’t meant to throw Tony off. Not when they were meant to be relaxing. “Sorry, it just kind of slipped —”

“It’s okay,” Tony’s voice was steady. He seemed much more sure than Steve was expecting him to.

Steve hesitated. He sat up, awkwardly twisting out of Tony’s lap so he could look him in the eye. Tony seemed… shocked was the only word for it.

Steve reached out and brushed his thumb along Tony’s cheek slowly. When Tony’s eyes refocused on Steve, he smiled just a little. 

“You still with me?” Steve asked keeping his voice soft and gentle.

“Yeah,” Tony said after a minute of silence. “Sorry, honey I just…”

“It’s okay,” Steve said. “Just talk to me. Too soon?”

“No. No.” Tony shook his head. “You’re—you didn’t do anything wrong. You’re just… God, are you even real?”

“I wouldn’t actually know that, would I?”

Tony laughed and rolled his eyes, and that was definitely a good sign.

“Seriously, what’s going on?”

Tony shook his head again, seemingly at a loss. He looked down at his hands, which were twisted together in his lap when he answered Steve a minute later.

“You just caught me off guard, is all,” Tony said. He took a deep breath. “People don’t say that to me first. Like, ever. So I wasn’t… I just wasn't expecting it.”

Now, that… that made Steve impossibly sad and a little angry.

“Well, I’m certainly sorry to hear that,” Steve said. He reached forward to untangle Tony’s hands and take them in his. “But it’s an honor to be able to say it to you now.”

Tony blinked at him. Steve squeezed his hands tighter. 

“I really do love you, Tony.” He said, smiling. “So much it hurts sometimes.”

Tony still looked a little shell-shocked — not in a bad way, though.

“I — ” Steve wasn’t sure what Tony was trying to say. He wasn’t sure Tony knew either. Steve squeezed Tony’s hands again. 

“It’s okay,” Steve said. He stood up from the couch without releasing Tony’s hands. “Let’s just go to bed.” 

Tony didn’t move right away. 

“Come on, gorgeous,” Steve pulled Tony gently. “Let’s go.”

Tony followed in a haze. Steve got him to their bedroom easily enough. Getting Tony to brush his teeth was a challenge, but he managed it. He started to suggest Tony might not want to sleep in the sweatshirt he’d stolen, but Tony glared at him before he could finish the sentence and Steve decided it wasn’t a fight worth picking. Tony got into bed.

Steve just stripped down to shorts and climbed into bed, curling himself around Tony and draping his arm over Tony’s waist. Tony was going to _roast_ wearing that sweatshirt if Steve was anywhere near him. 

“Goodnight Tony,” Steve said before pressing his lips to Tony’s cheek. “I love you.”

He was concerned about Tony overheating, and he started to move away. He hadn’t made it a centimeter before Tony stopped him.

“Stay,” he whispered softly. Steve hadn’t heard that tone before. Tony put his hand on Steve’s arm as if he needed to hold Steve in place. 

He didn’t.

“I’m not going anywhere.” Steve’s answer was simple. Honest. Tony relaxed under his touch.

For the next few minutes, Steve listened to Tony’s breathing closely. He knew what Tony sounded like when he was asleep versus what he sounded like when he was deep in thought. Tony was definitely thinking.

Steve didn’t want to leave him alone with his thoughts, he really didn’t. But he was tired, and Tony was warm…

He’d just started drifting off when Tony squeezed his arm. 

“Hey Steve?”

“Yeah, Tony?”

“I think you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me.”

“Nah, that’s you,” Steve said, his voice thick with sleep. He snorted a little because that didn’t really make sense. “For me, I mean.”

Tony chuckled. Steve was _clearly_ sleep deprived; he only ever acted this adorable when he was almost asleep.

“Sleep, sweetheart,” Tony said. “And… I—I uh—”

“I know, Tony,” Steve pressed his nose to the back of Tony’s neck. “Night.”

“Night, Steve.”

* * *

When Tony woke up, he was surprised to find Steve still sleeping beside him. Then he realized it was 5:14, and it was Saturday. Steve normally waited until a more acceptable hour for his weekend runs. Sometimes he’d even wait until 8 if Tony were particularly persuasive. On the best days, he’d skip it all together.

Maybe he could convince Steve to stay back today. The odds seemed to be in his favor. Steve loved him, after all. He smiled to himself.

“Go back to sleep,” Steve mumbled sleepily into the pillows. He was lying on his stomach with his head facing away from Tony. How Steve knew he was awake, Tony would never fully understand. 

“Too late for that,” Tony said keeping his voice low and soft. His brain was already well past the point of being able to shut down again. He had some things he could work on quietly from bed and that would let him stay close to Steve. “You should, though.”

Steve sighed and rolled over onto his side so he could see Tony. He looked far more alert than anyone had any right to this early in the morning. Especially when they’d only been awake about ten seconds.

“We went to bed at like 10 last night, didn’t we?” he asked, sounding somewhat dismayed by that fact.

“Yes,” Tony said, laughing. That would explain why they were both wide awake, wouldn’t it? He’d forgotten that they’d crashed so early after he freaked out. It seemed silly now. He smiled at Steve; their faces were only about two inches apart now.

“Well. We’re awake now.”

“Mmm,” Tony hummed. If Steve _wasn’t_ going to go back to sleep there were better things to do than work. He kissed Steve softly. “Morning.”

“Morning,” Steve said. He was smiling now. “Are you hungry? I could make breakfast.”

Tony blinked once, before collapsing into uncontrollable, ab-straining laughter. Steve was clearly confused as he smiled wearily at Tony, but that only made Tony laugh harder. When he finally caught his breath he put his hand on Steve’s face. He rubbed his thumb across Steve’s cheekbone. “My God, I love you,” Tony said, still breathless. “But no, like most normal humans, I am not hungry at 5:20 a.m. about six minutes after waking up. You clearly are, though.”

Steve’s smile was sheepish now. And also a little of something else.

“You love me?”

“I do,” Tony said without any hesitation. “Clearly a lot, if I’m going to let your ridiculously inconvenient metabolism interfere with my sexy morning plans.”

Steve’s expression shifted ever so slightly, a hint of mischief in is blue eyes.

“I could always bring breakfast to bed…” he said, suggestively.

Now that was an idea. Tony tugged Steve forward into a deep kiss. It was all heat and tongues, despite the fact that they both could use a minute or so with a toothbrush. It was perfect.

“Good plan, soldier,” Tony said. “Hurry back.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... what do you think? This chapter is kind of a huge one for them, right? They're public (and, naturally, Steve goes to bat to defend Tony. Did we expect anything less?) What did you think? Do you think his defense was good? Bad? Should he have just kept his head down? 
> 
> Then onto the next shift... they're officially in love. I mean, I think we all knew they were already there. But they've now SAID THE WORDS and that's always a big deal, right? Do you think I did them justice? Was it believable? 
> 
> Just let me know what you thought, as always. And, of course, thank you for reading. I love you all <3.


	14. Not Perfect, but Good

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This one takes place at the end of October 2013 :). Enjoy!

Things were good. The world knew about them, though, which meant some things had changed. 

When they went out to dinner, for example, the odds were much higher that they’d be approached by people. Before, people gave them a wide berth because they generally assumed the two were out for business reasons. Now that it was clear the outings were of a personal nature, people took that to mean they were interruptible. Steve would never understand it, but that's the way it was.

The people who came up to them were largely fans and supporters — it was _incredibly_ rare that some homophobic asshole took their chances and actually approached them to hurl insults. Sure, they heard whispers sometimes. But outright confrontations were few and far between, and they almost always ended with Steve getting in someone’s face in a very un-Captain America way despite Tony's attempts to hold him back.

Plus, they’d impacted so many people. 

Steve and Tony’s Meet the Press interview had gone viral _immediately_. Nielsen reported that 114 million people had watched it live — that was more viewers than the super bowl —and another 30 million had watched it after the fact. That didn’t even touch the online YouTube views. Everyone loved superheroes, and apparently learning that two of America’s favorite superheroes were in love only made things that much more interesting. Everyone wanted the story, from start to finish. 

It had been hard to navigate what they wanted to share with the world and what they wanted to keep to themselves. Luckily, Tony had the best PR team in the business, and they’d been prepped for every potential question.

When they left the studio after the interview, the world knew more about Steve and Tony than before, but not everything. They offered up a watered-down version of their relationship story: 

They met just before the Battle of New York, and they did _not_ get along. Steve made it clear that his misconceptions about Tony came from completely incorrect media portrayals of the man in conjunction with SHIELD’s incorrect intel. Tony didn’t feel the need to explain that he’d been prejudiced against Steve because his dad had been obsessed with Captain America; that was too personal. 

They became friends after Steve moved into the tower with the other Avengers. Steve had saved Tony from a mind-numbingly boring conversation with a couple Maria Stark Foundation donors one night, and they’d been close ever since. 

Steve had gone a little off-script — Tony strongly suspected Steve was on some kind of mission to destroy his bad-boy reputation — and told the story of his birthday. He’d left out some of the details, but he’d made it clear that _Tony_ single-handedly coordinated one of his favorite birthdays. Steve told everyone that was the night of their first kiss, and he’d looked so happy when he said it that Tony couldn’t bring himself to be upset about it.

Tony got to use their rehearsed answer to the ‘do you fight?’ question. They’d deflected any and all questions about the other... more intimate steps in their relationship, except to say that they loved each other very much and they were excited to be able to be open about that with the world.

People _ate it up._ They trended on Twitter for nearly two weeks. Everyone loved them — except for the people who despised them. Those people were vastly outnumbered, and neither Steve nor Tony cared about them in the slightest.

So things were good. Not perfect — they were real people in a real relationship — but good.

* * *

One night in late October, Steve woke up to the sound of shattering glass. Beside him, Tony was swearing. 

It made no sense, considering he _knew_ he’d fallen asleep curled around Tony who'd been relaxed, if not yet asleep. 

But now, it was 3:48 a.m. and Tony was clearly awake. And if Steve didn’t do something fast, he was also about to hurt himself. 

“Tony?” His voice was hoarse and softer than warranted given the situation. As Steve’s brain came back online he choked out, “JARVIS, some light?”

It was a testament to his mindset that he didn’t thank the AI for bringing up the lights to 15 percent. 

Tony was still spluttering out a litany of curses, none of which really indicated what was wrong. 

“Shit, shit, fuck,” Tony whispered hoarsely to himself. “So fucking _fucked.”_

Steve didn’t think Tony was truly present in the room anymore. His eyes were glassy and terrified in a way Steve both dreaded and prayed meant he was trapped in some kind of terrible memory. At least that would mean Steve could bring him out of it. 

Tony confirmed that when he started speaking again. “Stupid. So fucking _stupid._ What were we _thinking_? No one is ever going to find me. He’s dead, I’m dying and —”

That was what spurred Steve fully into action.

“Tony,” Steve scrambled forward, putting himself directly in Tony’s line of sight. “Tony, can you hear me? Look at me.”

Tony’s eyes flickered with the slightest recognition and Steve continued talking.

“Tony you’re not where you think you are. Whatever’s happening, it isn’t real. You’re safe. You’re here with me. We were asleep. You were having a nightmare. But you’re safe, at home in the tower.” 

“Yinsen is dead,” Tony said flatly, his voice breaking in a way that made Steve’s chest hurt. He recognized the name, but he didn’t immediately know where it was from. “He died and now I’m going to die and it’ll all be for _nothing_ —”

“Tony, you are _not dying tonight._ I am right here with you. You’re safe. You’re absolutely not dying on my watch.” Steve was looking him dead in the eye, and for a second he thought Tony was looking back and actually seeing him. “Tell me what I can do to help you and I’ll do it,” he vowed.

“W-water,” Tony choked out. “I need—”

He didn’t have to say it again. Suddenly the smashed glass — which Steve _finally_ remembered was normally a glass of water that was _always_ varying degrees of full — made perfect sense. Steve was already out of bed and headed for the bathroom.

“Stay here,” Steve said, aiming for a cross between commanding and comforting. He wasn’t sure he struck the balance right, but it felt more imperative to keep Tony out of the glass minefield beside their bed. Tony _needed_ to stay in bed and not walk through the broken glass Steve had just not-so-carefully traversed. 

Steve was glad Tony insisted on keeping glassware in every room of his home because it meant he could fill two glasses of water without ever leaving the master suite. 

He returned to the bed and pressed the cup into Tony’s hand, careful to otherwise avoid touching him. Tony stared at the water for half a second before bringing the glass to his lips and gulping it all down in seconds. Steve tugged on the empty glass gently, and when Tony wouldn’t let go, he spoke softly.

“Look, Tony. Let’s trade.” He knocked the glasses together gently, trying to show him that the second one was full. Tony caught on, and let the empty glass fall out of his hand as he scrambled for the second one. Steve caught the glass before it could roll off the mattress and join its companion in becoming part of the mess of blood and glass shards on the floor. Steve really needed to prevent Tony from seeing blood in this state. That would only make things worse.

Steve put the glass on the nightstand and turned back in time to see Tony’s eyes flash with shame. So he was coming back, then. 

“Are you with me, Tony?”

“I, uh. Yeah,” Tony still seemed dazed. He shook his head the way he sometimes did when he was trying to clear his thoughts. “Yes. Yes, sorry.”

“Okay.” Steve took the second empty glass from Tony’s hands and put it on the nightstand with the first. Tony grabbed Steve’s right hand like he was afraid Steve might disappear.

“So, you had a nightmare,” Steve started, his voice soft. Sometimes things like this were disorienting. “Everyone is fine. Nothing is wrong. There’s a bit of broken glass—”

Tony’s eyes widened at that. He turned to look over the side of the bed, or tried to, but Steve was quicker. He brought his left hand up to the side of Tony’s face, keeping his eyes straight ahead.

“It’s fine,” Steve said, his voice low and sure. “It’ll take me five minutes to clean it up, all right? It was just the glass that was on your nightstand.”

Tony took a deep breath, his eyes fluttering closed.

“God damn it,” he whispered, sounding absolutely wrecked. “That was so _stupid._ ”

“Tony, it’s okay.”

“It’s not. Jesus, Steve. I could have—”

“What?”

“I could have hurt you or called the suit. Or—”

“Tony, you didn’t hurt me. You’re not going to hurt me. And I’m not afraid of the suit.”

Tony stared at Steve with nothing but terror in his eyes. Steve slipped the hand on Tony’s cheek around to the back of his neck, slowly.

“Come here,” Steve murmured, coaxing Tony closer. “Just for a minute, okay?”

Tony practically melted into him, arms winding tightly around Steve’s neck. Steve put his right arm around Tony’s waist and kept his left hand at the base of Tony's neck, tracing slow circles there with his thumb.

“I’m sorry,” Tony said into Steve’s neck after a few minutes of silence. “That hasn’t happened in… I don’t even know how long.”

“Tony, you have nothing to apologize for,” Steve said, squeezing him tighter.

“I do, though, Steve.” Tony unwound his arms from around Steve and brought his hands up between them. He settled them on Steve’s shoulders, pressing him back slowly. “This shouldn’t have happened. This is actually something I’ve more or less worked through.”

Steve waited patiently, and Tony brought a hand down to squeeze one of Steve’s.

“After everything that happened in Afghanistan — being held hostage, forced to try to make weapons, escaping, the whole thing — I used to have that dream a lot. But even before Pepper and I were ever together, I had a handle on that one.” Tony winced at whatever memories were flitting through his head. “For whatever reason, Afghanistan was a hell of a lot easier to process and move past than New York.”

“Do you want to talk about it?” Steve asked, expecting the answer to be no.

“It’s nothing special,” Tony said, sounding tired. “Did you read my file?”

Steve nodded. He’d read it cover to cover long before he’d even _met_ Tony, but he still felt that it was definitely a simplified version of what happened in that cave to result in Tony creating the miniaturized Arc Reactor and becoming Iron Man.

“That was actually surprisingly accurate, at least the bare bones of it. I think SHIELD was missing a few death threats here and there, but it was the gist. Except when I got out of that cave and blew everything to hell.” Tony took a deep breath, steeling himself for something. “In the file, I think it says Rhodey found me something like five hours later?”

Steve hummed something that Tony read as an agreement.

“That’s just… a little bit incorrect.” Tony sighed. “It was more like twelve or thirteen hours. They had a bit of a math error relating to the time of the explosion and where and when they actually found me.”

“And you didn’t think to correct them?” Steve asked. It didn’t sound like Tony.

“I, uh, didn’t see any reason to make Rhodey feel _worse_ about the whole thing. None of it was his fault, after all. Five hours was easier to stomach for everyone.”

“But wrong,” Steve pointed out. 

“Yes,” Tony agreed. “And the Ten Rings assholes already had us on some pretty severe water rations at that point. They were trying to, ah, actually make sure we didn’t try to do exactly what I did. Or that we’d wind up dead in the desert from dehydration if we did.”

“Oh God, Tony,” Steve breathed, finally putting two and two together. “So the water…?”

“Yeah, uh,” Tony tried to find something else to say and failed. “Yeah.”

Steve didn't know what to say in response to that. Everything he considered seemed painfully lacking. He was a little startled when Tony laughed, bitterly.

“It was all pretty ironic, too, considering for the first few months after I got back I pretty seriously avoided water thanks to the whole, uh, nearly being drowned multiple times thing.” He shook his head. “It’s just funny how your body’s basic needs can override basically any fear. I couldn’t go anywhere without a bottle of water. Still can’t sleep without water close by, clearly.”

Steve opened his mouth to respond but quickly discovered he still didn’t have the words. Tony said these things so plainly, as if they’d happened to someone else rather than himself. Steve thought about his words — namely the intense fear of water he’d mentioned — and recalled the times they’d showered together. And the time Tony had dragged Steve to the pool on one of the tower floors for a ‘relaxation day.’ Tony had done it all without ever even hesitating. Finally, he found his voice.

“You’re the strongest person I know,” he whispered, hoping Tony could hear the honesty. He brushed his thumb along Tony’s cheek, his touch light. 

“No I’m — ” Tony started, rolling his eyes.

“You are,” Steve declared, leaving no room for argument. He brought his other hand up to Tony’s face as well. “You’re… you amaze me.”

Tony must have registered the earnestness of his tone because Steve could feel his cheek heating as he blushed. Tony’s blushes were becoming fewer and farther between the longer they were together. In any other situation, Steve might have smiled at the flashback to when they first got together. Now, though, he just stared, trying to take in every detail of Tony’s face.

Tony allowed it — humoring him, Steve was sure — for all of four seconds before he pressed forward into Steve’s space. Their lips met in a fierce kiss that conveyed, somehow impossibly, more than words could. Tony’s kiss was gratitude and affection and disbelief _,_ while Steve’s was heartbroken, awed, and had a sharp edge of _anger._ Tony knew Steve well enough to know his anger was directed both generally at the universe and specifically at the terrorists who’d kidnapped him.

They broke apart, breathing heavily. Tony pressed his forehead to Steve’s, some of the tension melting from his body.

“I really am sorry for waking you,” Tony murmured, voice soft and tired sounding.

“Tony, you absolutely do not have to apologize for that. I’d rather be up and with you. Especially if it helps at all.”

“It does.”

“Good.” Steve leaned in and pressed a kiss to Tony’s cheek. “You should lie back down,” he whispered.

“Mmm,” Tony hummed. He let out a sigh that surprisingly wasn’t one of protest and moved to lie back. Then he blinked hard, and focused on Steve, brow furrowed. “What about you?”

“I’m coming,” Steve promised, moving to stand beside the bed so Tony could lie down. He decidedly did _not_ wince despite the fact that there was definitely a medium-size piece of glass lodged in his right heel. Tony snuggled down under the covers while watching Steve suspiciously. 

“I’ll be back before you know it,” Steve assured. He brushed a stray lock of Tony’s hair back on his forehead. “I just need five minutes to clean up. I don’t want to leave glass on the floor.”

Tony sighed and abruptly rolled over so that his back was to Steve. He muttered something that sounded suspiciously like, “ _you and your damn responsibility,”_ and then pressed his face into the pillow. Steve turned to make a break for the hallway to retrieve a broom, but before he could get out the door Tony resurfaced to make a demand.

“Hurry.”

Steve did. It took a few seconds to collect the broom and a few more to successful gather up the biggest glass pieces. He was working with limited light, and a broom wasn’t ideal for the task, so Steve swept three times. He was down to three minutes to clean up the smears of blood he’d left on the floor if he wanted to keep his word. He used a damp cloth from the bathroom to wipe up the floor beside the bed and the trail into the bathroom. Once in the bathroom, he rinsed his feet with the hand-held shower head and then pulled two pieces of glass from his right foot. Somehow, he’d managed to avoid stepping on any with his left foot.

The cuts would be healed by morning, easily — they were already finished bleeding — so he didn’t feel bad about neglecting to tell Tony. In fact, while he was still in the bathroom he asked JARVIS if there were blood spots anywhere that he’d missed. JARVIS, quietly, replied there were some near the exit of the bedroom and into the hall that Steve should attend to.He also refilled one empty glass with water for the nightstand.

Steve walked out of the room, replaced the cup, and quickly wiped the floor clean under the guise of returning the broom to its place in the hall closet. He confirmed with JARVIS that it was entirely clean before he slipped back into the bedroom.

He thought Tony was asleep again, until he carefully climbed back into bed. Tony reached out for him immediately, his hands on Steve’s waist as he attempted to pull him closer. Steve went willingly, of course. He was more than happy to let Tony drag him until they were essentially sharing a pillow in what was, more or less, the center of the bed.

“How bad is it?” Tony whispered. He had his eyes closed and he looked like he was in pain.

“What?” Steve asked, genuinely confused. “Tony, there’s nothing wrong — ”

“Bullshit,” Tony opened his eyes to look directly into Steve’s. He didn’t seem angry so much as sad. “You’re a terrible liar, Steve.”

“I’m not lying?”

“You were literally _standing on broken glass._ ”

“Oh,” Steve sighed. The downside of Tony being a genius was that he rarely missed things. “It really was nothing. Two small cuts, and I washed them out. They’re already healing.”

Tony stared at him, assessing his truthfulness.

“I’m not lying, Tony,” Steve promised. “I was being somewhat careful, you know.”

“Sure you were,” Tony rolled his eyes.

“I’m _fine_.”

Tony watched him, skeptically and tiredly. Tiredness seemed to be winning out. Steve took a chance and ran his hand up Tony’s back, along his spine. Tony shivered and melted further into Steve and his touch.

“You should sleep,” Steve encouraged, his fingers tracing up and down Tony’s back. “I put some more water on the table for you, if you want it.”

Tony’s lips twitched in what Steve suspected might be a smile if he weren’t so out of it already. The arm Tony had draped over Steve’s waist tightened, drawing Steve impossibly closer.

“Don’t need it,” he mumbled, shuffling so he could use Steve’s chest as a pillow instead of the pillow itself. “I have you.”

Steve chuckled fondly, pressing a kiss into Tony’s hair. “Don’t think I can replace water.”

“’S okay,” Tony said, his voice trailing off. “Nothing bad’s going to happen now.”

Steve was a little surprised when tears sprung to his eyes. He blinked them away, not letting his breathing change in a way that would alert Tony. It was just… Tony had been through so much. It was a heavy thing, Steve thought, being trusted and considered _safe_ by someone who had been betrayed as many times as Tony. Steve wasn’t going to make him regret it.

“I love you,” Steve said. 

Tony hummed against Steve’s chest. Steve smiled.

Things weren’t perfect — they never would be — but they were _good._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... what do you think? A huge part of why I started writing this was to explore the ideas of superheroes dealing with mental health issues because that's incredibly important to me, so I wanted to be sure to get back to that. I hope you think I'm doing Tony justice in this chapter. Feel free to let me know what you think! Even a simple ":)" lets me know that you think I'm on the right track ;). 
> 
> There are some big things coming up for these two next, so I hope you'll stick with me and keep reading. I love you all, and I hope you have a lovely weekend.


	15. Smooth Talking, Jokes, and Potential Publicity

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter takes place in the middle of November 2013 :). Enjoy!

The tower was so quiet. It was rare that Steve and Tony ever had the place to themselves between Bruce, Clint, and Nat, but at the moment everyone was away. Bruce was in South America studying an outbreak of a disease no one else would get close to and Nat and Clint were on separate missions. Unless Thor showed up out of the blue, they had the place to themselves for a bit longer.

“When do you think we should start planning for Thanksgiving?” Steve asked from his spot on the couch behind Tony. On the TV, competitors in the cooking show were preparing turkeys and stuffing.

Tony spun around on the barstool. He hadn’t realized Steve was awake.

“I don’t know,” Tony shrugged. “Depends on what you want to do.”

“Nothing crazy,” Steve said. “Just something with the team, if we’re all in one place.”

“Pepper too,” Tony said. “Even she won’t be busy on Thanksgiving.”

“Of course.” Steve nodded. “She’s always a part of the team, no matter how many team dinners she misses.”

“Nat has been trying to get her to come. I think she’ll make it to one of them someday soon.”

“Does Colonel Rhodes go home to his family for holidays?” Steve asked. “He’d be invited, too."

Tony smiled. Steve was always so cautious, never wanting to leave out a part of someone’s family even accidentally. 

“I don’t know what he’s doing this year,” Tony said. “I can ask him.”

Steve smiled. “Anyone else you can think of?”

“Not off the top of my head,” Tony said. “Outside of you, Pepper, Rhodey, Bruce, Clint, and Nat are the closest people I have to family.”

It was typically too private of an admission to make in a tower common space, but they were alone. Steve smiled, his expression completely devoid of pity. Tony appreciated that — there was nothing wrong with his makeshift family. And Steve would be the absolute last person to judge Tony after everything they'd each been through.

“You know, if we take point on Thanksgiving dinner, we’re never going to escape the mom and dad title,” Steve observed idly. 

Tony laughed and abandoned his tablet on the counter. He rounded the couch to cuddle next to Steve like he’d wanted to since he walked into the living room and found Steve passed out on the couch in front of MasterChef. He hadn’t. Instead, he’d been a good boyfriend and hadn’t woken Steve. Now, Steve was awake and they were alone, but even if they _weren’t_ alone, he was still allowed. It was great.

Steve seemed more than happy to have Tony join him on the couch. He pressed into the back of the couch as tightly as he could to make room for Tony to fit comfortably and draped his arm over Tony’s shoulders.

“I think you’re utterly too optimistic if you really believed there was any hope of us escaping that nickname at all,” Tony said after a minute.

Steve sighed. He kissed Tony’s temple in a way that suggested he wasn’t actually all that upset about it.

“I think the longer we stay together, the more it sticks,” Steve agreed.

“I guess you should have dumped me months ago,” Tony said.

“Never.” Steve pulled Tony close, this time for a real kiss. When they parted, Steve smiled shyly. “Besides, it’s not the worst thing they could call us.”

Tony hid his face in Steve’s neck. Only there did he feel safe admitting, “I don’t actually hate it.”

Steve laughed, delighted. Tony stayed hidden in the crook of his neck.

“If you ever _ever_ say anything to anyone, I will deny it so well you’ll start to question whether you ever heard it yourself,” Tony said, his words warm against Steve’s skin.

Steve ran his fingers up and down Tony’s arm playfully.

“Your secret’s safe with me, sweetheart.” He kissed the top of Tony’s head. “And I don’t hate it either. I think it’s their way of being supportive.”

Tony didn’t say anything in response, but Steve suspected he agreed.

“How was your nap?” Tony asked after a minute. 

“Good,” Steve said. “Surprising, honestly. I didn’t mean to fall asleep.”

“I figured. I was hoping if you were actually trying to sleep you would have found the strength to at least go crash in a bed. My room's like twenty-five feet away.”

“If I could make it to your room, it’s like another fifteen feet for me to get to mine,” Steve said, grinning.

“True,” Tony said. He saw his opportunity, and he took it. He was praying Steve was still relaxed enough from his nap to miss the way Tony’s nerves took over. “You know, when you say it, it does seem a little silly.”

“What does?” Steve was still running his fingers up and down Tony’s arm. That was nice.

“Just, um, us staying in two separate rooms. Or… really us having our stuff in two rooms, I guess.” Because Tony couldn’t remember the last time they’d both been in the same state and “stayed” in separate _beds_ , let alone two different _rooms_. That, in and of itself, was part of what was prompting this conversation. 

That, along with a little help from Rhodey. The last time Tony had talked with him on the phone Rhodey had gotten curious and started asking increasingly invasive questions about Tony’s relationship with Steve. Rhodey was always doing that, and Tony was used to it. But when Rhodey’d started asking about why they bothered to keep two separate rooms in the tower — Tony had mentioned that Steve kept the shield in his own room — Tony realized he didn’t actually have an answer.

Naturally, that conversation had triggered Tony’s overactive brain to obsess over the question. Per Tony’s research — which consisted of reading dozens of articles, contacting the researchers behind two peer-reviewed studies, and taking far too many online quizzes — all signs indicated they were ready to actually, fully live together. Granted, their situation was unique: they already mostly lived together. 

This was more about actually sharing a private space 50/50. Tony thought it would be an important step forward for them. He hoped Steve would see it that way too.

If only he could find a way to vocalize it.

“You’re not wrong,” Steve said after a minute. “It’s not like we don’t sleep together every night.” 

“Right,” Tony said. He liked that Steve seemed to see the obvious side of things. “Plus a lot of your stuff has migrated into my room, and a lot of my stuff has made its way into yours.”

He knew that for a fact. Steve had taken over a third of his closet and Tony had a fourth of Steve’s. He was pretty sure the only reason for the difference was that they tended to sleep in Tony’s room more often.

“That’s true,” Steve said. He was smiling now and staring at Tony. “Is there something you’re trying to get at here, beautiful? I could be wrong, but I feel like you’ve got an angle.”

“Damn, you caught me.”

“I love you, sweetheart, I do. You’re beyond amazing at so many things. But you’re pretty terrible at subtleties.”

Tony laughed because it was one hundred percent accurate. Steve waited patiently for him to get to the point.

“Do you remember a few weeks ago when I talked to Rhodey for a couple hours?”

“Yeah. It was the same day we went to that place with the amazing Polish food.”

“Yep,” Tony said. “So Rhodey and I were talking, and he was being his usual nosey self. So he essentially asked why we still have two individual rooms and I realized I… didn’t really have a good answer for him.”

Steve looked at him thoughtfully. 

“And it’s not really a big deal or anything, but I thought it was something we could talk about.”

“Of course we can,” Steve said. “It never has to be a big deal for us to talk about something. I’m sorry you’ve been thinking about this on your own for weeks now.”

“I wasn’t — ”

“I know you, Tony,” Steve said, his voice endlessly fond but also concerned. “I know you’ve been thinking about this for weeks.”

“Okay, maybe. But it wasn’t that I didn’t think I could talk to you about it. There just wasn’treally a great time, you know?”

“Well we’ve definitely got time now, so this works,” Steve said. “You said you didn’t have a good answer for Rhodey. I don’t really have one either. Just to start there.”

“No?”

“No, not really. I mean, theoretically, we could say we have a lot of things as individuals that would be difficult to keep in a single room. But I’m pretty sure all I _really_ care about in my room right now is my clothing, about a single trunk’s worth of belongings and art supplies, and you when you’re there.”

“And the shield.”

“The shield’s been in your closet since I got back from my last mission.”

“Oh.”

“Yeah,” Steve said with a laugh. “So my list was pretty comprehensive.”

“Smooth talker,” Tony said, realizing that the last thing Steve had tacked onto the list was him. “But seriously. That’s it?”

“What can I say? I’m a man of few possessions. The rest of it is just furniture.” Steve thought about it for a minute and realized how that might have sounded. “Not that it isn’t incredibly nice furniture that I’ve appreciated. But it’s still just furniture. I’m not attached to any of it.”

“Okay,” Tony said, laughing at Steve’s attempt to reassure him that he liked the furniture.

“What about you?” 

“I mean, yeah, it’s not like I’ve really got much of anything I care about in my room. There are a few things, sure. But not…” Tony trailed off.

“Not enough to practically impede theoretical efforts to downsize to one primary living space.”

“Right. Not enough for… that.” Steve was approaching this far more logically than Tony had been prepared for. He wasn’t really sure what to do with that.

“Tony is this something you want or something you _don’t_ want?” Steve looked at Tony, a deep furrow between his eyebrows. “Honestly. Setting aside whatever Rhodey might have asked you or made you think.”

“I think… it’s something that would be good for us,” Tony said carefully, each word measured. “It’s just… we’ve been together a while now. And we already live together, mostly. Not that this wouldn’t be a big change; I don’t want to downplay its importance. It just… we have roommates, you know? So it would be a space that’s for just us. Not that we don’t have privacy now, but more… domestic privacy. I don’t even know — is this making any sense?” 

Steve smiled at him.

“Yes, you’re making sense. At least to me,” Steve said.

“Okay. That’s a relief.”

“I think you make perfect sense,” Steve said. “And I agree with you. I think it would be nice. We’ve been pseudo-living together for nearly a year, and we’ve been doing so as a couple for about five months. Speaking for myself, our relationship has always been a serious thing for me. So I’m not going anywhere unless you decide you don’t want me around anymore.”

“It’s serious for me too,” Tony said quickly. “I don’t… I’ve never had what we have. With anyone. Not like this. I definitely don’t want you to go anywhere.”

“And I feel the same way about you.”

“Okay, so…”

“So, Tony, do you want us to move in together?”

“Yes,” Tony said. “Is that what you want?”

“Hm, do I want to be close to you permanently? Yes, yes I do. And not that it really matters, but we rarely ever sleep in my room. We basically already live in yours.”

“I was thinking about that, too…” Tony said. “If you wanted… I could bulldoze everything upstairs and remake this level with a new floor plan that combines the two of our rooms so that we’d have more space — ”

“Oh God, Tony,” Steve said, laughing. “How about you don’t bulldoze _anything_ and I just move the two things I mentioned before into your room and we call it a day?”

“Oh, sure.” Tony rolled his eyes. “Take the easy way out.”

“Hey,” Steve said, getting Tony’s attention. “How long do you think it’ll take the team to realize I don’t actually have my own room anymore?”

“Excluding Natasha? Probably a while,” Tony said, laughing. “You’re hardly ever in your room, so… at least a couple months.”

Steve laughed and kissed Tony softly. 

“I love you,” he said.

“I love you, too.” Tony snuggled into Steve’s chest. 

* * *

Steve moved his stuff into Tony’s room that evening before anyone else returned to the tower. It took all of one trip. After he moved it all, he went back to the kitchen to wait on the others' return. Natasha arrived first.

“Welcome back,” Steve said, smiling. 

“Thanks.”

“How were things?” He knew better than to press Nat for details. 

“Good,” she replied revealing nothing, same as ever. “How about things here? You and Tony had the place to yourselves, didn’t you?”

“Sure did,” Steve said. “Everyone is due back in tonight, though. It was really quiet around here.”

“Oh Steve,” Natasha said, smirking at him in a way that suggested she was up to no good. “If you’d played your cards right things wouldn’t have been that quiet.”

Steve snorted. She had a point. And things hadn't been  _that_ quiet, but she didn't need to know that.

“You should have held onto that one until Clint got home,” he teased. “You know how much he appreciates the sex jokes.”

“It’s incredibly frustrating that they don’t seem to work on you anymore,” she said, still smiling. “It was much more fun when you would at least get a little flustered about it.”

Steve laughed again.

“Is it really surprising though?” Steve asked. “I’m dating Tony Stark.”

She conceded that point with a sharp nod.

“I’m going to go shower,” she said. “Are you getting food, making food, or…?”

Steve checked his phone and saw Tony’s response.

“Looks like we’re ordering in. Tony asked what I wanted; are you in the mood for something?”

“I want… fried chicken. Mashed potatoes, veggies. The whole deal.”

“Got it. Go shower, I’ll have JARVIS place an order.”

Nat went to her room to shower, and Steve texted Tony about his plan to order chicken from the place everyone liked. Tony, unsurprisingly, told Steve to order extra — _lots_ of extra food — because Bruce and Clint were coming home too, and everyone would be hungry.

* * *

Tony was right, of course. Everyone arrived hungry. Steve and the others were just finishing up dinner when Tony finally rolled in around 8:30 p.m. He kissed Steve in greeting, dropped a magazine on the counter in front of Nat, and snatched Steve’s fork to steal one of the sautéed carrots off Steve’s plate.

“Welcome back everyone,” Tony said, finally greeting the others. “Did you know Steve is breaking up with me?”

Steve didn’t even have a chance to respond before Nat cut in.

“Well if I didn’t before, I do now.”

Steve had no idea what they were talking about, but he laughed because it was ridiculously untrue.

“I’m sorry, what’s happening?” Bruce asked, sounding concerned. 

Clint seemed completely unimpressed by the direction of the conversation.

“Steve is dumping me,” Tony said, contradicting himself by leaning into Steve who had his arm wrapped around Tony’s waist. “It says so, right here in _People_ magazine. Apparently, I’ve been cheating on him.”

“Oh,” Bruce chuckled. “Okay. We’re talking fiction.” 

“ _People_ has ‘reported’ that you guys have broken up at least four times over the past five months,” Clint said, surprising everyone. 

Tony raised an eyebrow at him in question.

“What? I read,” Clint said defensively.

Steve chuckled.

“I don’t understand why they keep printing this when it’s so obviously untrue,” Nat said, thumbing through the pages with the ‘featured story’ on them.

“Because it sells magazines? That’s my best guess, anyway.” Tony said, shrugging.

“That’s stupid,” Steve pointed out easily.

“The internet ferociously comes to your defense, don’t worry,” Clint said. “Everyone loves you guys.”

“How do they even back up unsubstantiated claims like that?” Bruce asked. He sounded surprised by everything he was hearing.

“Anonymous ‘inside’ sources,” Tony said.

“Well that’s bullshit,” Steve said, scoffing. “And we can put an end to that if you want to. We’ll just do more PR.” He was looking at Tony when he said it.

“I didn’t bring it up because I’m worried about it. Pepper gave me the magazine, and I thought it was funny. I was just joking.” But it was too late for that, Tony could tell. Steve had the determined look on his face that he only ever got when he wanted to right a wrong.

“Well I’m not.”

“Honey, it’s really not worth it.”

“I disagree,” Steve said. “Wouldn’t you rather they write things that are actually true?”

“I mean, I wouldn’t mind it, but — ”

“What if we let _Time_ magazine do the piece they wanted to do?”

“You were entirely opposed to that!” Tony said emphatically.

“Letting someone hang around recording our deepest, most intimate feelings about each other?” Steve scrunched up his nose. “Can’t possibly fathom why I would be opposed to that.”

“This is what I mean. We don’t have to do this. Who cares if the world doesn’t see everything exactly right? It’s not like it matters.”

“Sure it does,” Steve said. “Besides, I’m alive now, and I can somewhat control my image. I’d rather they stop using it to smear my boyfriend’s good name.”

“Honey, I hate to break it to you, but I ruined my good name back in the nineties.”

“Oh, so people aren’t allowed to change? That’s bullshit, s’all I’m saying,” Steve said, the slightest hint of his Brooklyn accent making an appearance. That only happened when he was particularly passionate about something without being downright angry — usually things that pertained to art or Tony. Tony’s heart fluttered a little. He was so in love with Steve; it was a little ridiculous. But Steve wasn’t finished. “So, if you want to have a real reporter — a qualified one, someone we pick personally — come hang around and see how we really are together, I’m more than fine with that. Honestly, I think the country could use it.”

Tony sighed and pressed a kiss to Steve’s cheek. 

“I’ll think about it, okay?”

Steve smiled. “Sure, Tony.”

“Ugh,” Clint cut in a second later. “Stop being so adorable. Some of us are still trying to eat.”

Tony laughed and picked up Steve’s half-eaten roll. “Shut it bird-brain,” Tony said and took a bite. He figured Steve would make him get his own plate, but for now he was content to steal Steve’s food.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey guys! Happy belated Halloween. I tried to get this chapter up as a Halloween present, but I was a day late. I hope you all enjoyed it nonetheless. This chapter was particularly fluffy, but I enjoyed writing the team dynamic again. Let me know what you think!
> 
> Also, while I have you, I have a quick question! Do you have anything you absolutely think this story should be tagged as?? I want to make sure anyone who is searching for specific themes/tropes/etc. can find this story if it fits, so I’m wondering if you guys think I should include anything I haven’t yet. Or any potential trigger warnings I might be missing! 
> 
> Thank you all for your feedback, support, and, of course, for reading <3!


	16. Steve Rogers & Tony Stark

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am SO sorry. This chapter was another BEAST. I wrote and re-wrote it a few times, and I'm still not totally sure how I feel about it. But, I persevered. 
> 
> At this point, we're past the holidays and into February 2014. Enjoy!

It took a few months — Steve and Tony both wanted to get through the holidays without being under a microscope — but they ended up contacting a little-known reporter Pepper recommended for the profile. Apparently, Tony and Steve had enough leverage to twist _Time_ ’s arm a little and give some print space to a new writer trying to make a name for herself.

Addison Moretti refused to agree to write the piece on the phone; she wanted to meet them in person before making any commitments. According to Pepper, that was a good sign. So they set up a date for her to come to the tower for a meeting.

When she arrived, Steve had a feeling they’d picked the right person. She was wearing a long, black pencil skirt with a royal blue blouse tucked into the waistband. Her brown hair was twisted up into a simple but sleek style. She wore simple black shoes with a low heel that indicated she prioritized sensibility over all else. She reminded Tony of Pepper, and he whispered as much to Steve as she approached.

She shook both their hands dutifully, smiling as she introduced herself.

“I appreciate you meeting with me to talk about this,” she said. “I hope you can understand why I couldn’t agree over the phone.”

“Can’t say we understand right now,” Steve said, always honest. “But we’re certainly open to trying.”

Addison laughed a little. 

“That’s fair,” she nodded. She sat down at the head of the table because Tony and Steve were sitting side by side on the left. They thought the set-up would be easier for her to address them both. “I can start by explaining.

“I don’t know what sort of journalists you’ve worked with in the past, but I take my job very seriously. I’m interested in getting to the truth and telling the important stories. I won’t be misled and I certainly won’t be misleading. I don’t have a lot to my name right now, but I have my integrity as a writer and I have no intention of compromising it.

“That means to do my job — to write an honest, compelling profile about the two of you and your relationship — I’m going to need a few things from you. If you can’t agree to that, then I can’t agree to write this piece. And I know you’ll have no trouble finding someone else to do so.”

“Integrity is usually more Steve’s thing than mine, but I like you,” Tony said, grinning.

“What will you need from us?” Steve asked.

“First, at least a week of access. Not necessarily seven consecutive days, but between five and seven days with about six to eight hours of time I can spend around you, both individually and separately. Second, at least two individual interviews with each of you, and at least two interviews with the two of you together. Third, you have to do what you can to trust me and understand that I’ll use discretion in what I publish — pertaining to both your relationship and your work as Avengers. Fourth and finally, you have to accept that I will not show the story to you before it publishes, but I will check the accuracy of everything that’s written before it goes to print.”

“That’s it?” Steve asked. Her requests seemed thorough, well thought out, and reasonable. 

“I want to be transparent with what I think it will take to write a good profile. If I end up needing less, at least you’re prepared. But you’d be surprised how many people are unwilling to agree to what I just listed.”

“Personally, I find it reassuring that you want to make sure you get this right,” Tony said, shrugging. “I’d rather you spend more time with us than less. I find I’m more of an acquired taste; the longer you’re around me, the less you want to write a horrible take-down piece.”

“I have no intention of writing a take-down piece,” Ms. Moretti said, smiling a little. “Although, I feel obligated to tell you that I’m good at my job. If there are parts of your relationship that are fabricated or… embellished, it comes out with careful reporting.”

“That’s not going to be a problem, Ms. Moretti,” Steve said. “That’s part of why we’ve decided to do this.

“Please, call me Addison,” she said. “And honestly, I thought that was the case. But it was important for me to offer up the disclaimer regardless.”

“So is there something we need to sign…” Tony said, his experience with business-agreements taking over.

“Oh no, of course not,” Addison laughed a little. “You’re not signing your life away, or even your privacy, really. Just telling me you’ll agree to this is enough.”

“Well that all seems very doable,” Tony said. “I don’t see any of it being a problem.”

Addison looked at Steve, expectantly. 

Steve glanced at Tony, and Tony nodded. Steve looked at Addison.

“We can do it,” Steve said. “When do we start?”

“Well, my job starts now,” she said, flipping her notepad open and pressing the tip of her pen to the page. “But we can officially set up a start time for later this week if that works?”

“And would this be for one of the interviews or for you to just hang around?” Steve asked.

“Ideally, we’d start with a combined interview,” Addison said. “And then if it’s convenient I could stick around here for the day to see what you two get up to.”

“Remind me, Steve, we’ll need to get her access to the top couple floors of the tower.”

Steve nodded, filing it away for later. 

“What day works for you?” she asked.

Steve shrugged. “How about tomorrow?”

Addison looked a little shocked. “Tomorrow?”

“You’re already here,” Tony said. “And our schedules are pretty unpredictable. You might as well talk to us while we for-sure have an opening.”

“Okay, fair enough,” she said. There was a glint in her eye that suggested she was getting into the project. “You two are going to be difficult to write about, aren’t you?” 

Steve chuckled a little, and Tony smirked.

“Well, we’d really have no way of knowing that,” Tony said with a smirk.

Addison sighed, but she was smiling. 

* * *

Pepper read the piece first. She loved it and had assured Steve and Tony that it captured their relationship well and also revealed things about each of them as individuals. After spending days answering Addison’s questions, and then a few weeks confirming all the facts, Tony felt like he knew her. He trusted her not to do a hatchet job; she was a genuinely curious and kind person. She’d never once shown any hint of judgment no matter what answers they gave to her questions. But he was still afraid to read it.

So, naturally, he made Steve read it first. 

Steve, being the ever-dutiful boyfriend, read it without hesitation at Tony’s request. Tony had been in their room with him when he did to carefully watch Steve’s expression. Steve had smiled, chuckled, or kept his neutral face almost the entire time. There was only one portion near the end where he frowned just the slightest bit. That concerned Tony.

But, in the end, Steve put the magazine down and came over to Tony. He pulled Tony into a hug and smiled down at him. 

“Read it,” Steve said. “Trust me.”

“Are you sure? There was a part you didn’t look thrilled about.”

“I’m sure,” Steve said. “You’ll see the part I wasn’t happy with, but that wasn’t on her. She had it right.”

Tony raised his eyebrows. Now he was curious. That was a start.

“Sweetheart, I know you’re not used to good press. But I assure you, this is good press.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah,” Steve said, running his fingers down Tony’s arm. “It’s good. I think you’ll like it.”

Tony sighed. Steve kissed him softly.

“Do you want me to stay here while you read it?”

Tony thought about that for a second.

“No, that’s okay. I’ll come find you after.”

“Okay.” Steve smiled again as he backed toward the door to the hall. “Seriously, it’s a good article. Just read it.”

Steve left, and Tony finally sat down to read. 

* * *

**Steve Rogers & Tony Stark**

_An inside look at two superheroes busy saving and changing the world — together — one crisis at a time._

By: Addison Moretti

Steve Rogers walks into the kitchen on the 100th floor of the notorious Avengers Tower and begins to pull things out of the fridge to make breakfast. His hair is still dripping slightly, the result of his routine post-run shower. He’s wearing a light-blue t-shirt and gray sweatpants; there’s nothing special on the agenda today. He starts a pot of coffee.

Several minutes later, as Rogers browns sausage links and whips scrambled eggs in a bowl, Tony Stark shuffles into the kitchen. His dark hair is mussed from sleep and he yawns even as he stretches up and presses a kiss to Rogers’ cheek. 

“Morning, beautiful,” Rogers says, very much awake and teasing Stark a little about that fact. He pours coffee into a large mug that has “I  💜Hawkeye” emblazoned on the side, complete with an arrow running through the purple heart. “I made you something.” Rogers pushes the mug into Stark’s waiting hands. 

“God, I knew I loved you for a reason,” Stark says, gulping down hot coffee without a moment’s hesitation. 

“Tony!” Rogers whirls on him and tries to steal the mug back. “That’s hot. You’ll burn yourself.”

“Sweetheart, I’m fine. Relax,” Stark says, rolling his eyes. “Or I’ll be forced to tell the reporter all about how it’s not just me you mother hen but the entire team.”

“Tony, all she has to do is ask anyone on the team, and she’ll know they call us mom and dad. There’s not much to be done about it. Besides, _you’re_ mom, so I’m not sure you want to go there.”

“I absolutely am not.”

Rogers turns when Stark isn’t looking and mouths, “He absolutely _is_ mom.”

Stark glares into his coffee without any real heat. “Stop talking about me behind my back, Steve.”

Rogers laughs, and Stark smiles into his coffee. 

Their morning routine single-handedly debunks one of the biggest myths surrounding their relationship. Stark and Rogers — better known as Iron Man and Captain America — are very much in love. Anyone claiming otherwise has clearly never actually spoken to either of them or anyone who knows them, let alone spent any time in the same room as the couple. Even more preposterous is the idea that Stark is, has or ever will cheat on Rogers.

“It’s something of a joke in the tower,” says Bruce Banner, world-renowned scientist and the Avenger also known as the Hulk. “Whenever someone sees a so-called news story claiming Tony cheated or that one of them is breaking things off, we send it to them. We all get a good laugh.”

Running joke it might be, but it’s also something that rarely gets any traction between the men themselves. In fact, Rogers can hardly remember the last time he’d spent discussing the incorrect rumors the tabloids report. “We don’t waste our time talking about nonexistent problems in our relationship,” Rogers says. “Besides, Tony has never cheated on _anyone_ , and I’ve always trusted him.”

That’s not without good reason. After spending just a few minutes with them, it becomes clear that that the Stark-Rogers relationship is built on trust, communication and, oddly enough, humor. It is obvious in the way that they talk about each other and the false rumors that abound. “Have you met Steve?” Stark says, laughing. “If he wanted to break up with me there’s no way in _hell_ I’d hear it from a tabloid before I heard it from him. He’s all about doing the right thing, and he’s fast enough to dump me before the news networks could get wind of it.”

Rogers confirms that, while also saying that he has no intention of breaking up with Stark. Americans like to think they know the story of Iron Man and Captain America’s relationship. That’s not the case. The two have said so little about their relationship up until now that it would have been impossible. Besides, anyone referring to them by their superhero monikers has clearly missed the essence of Stark and Rogers.

During their _Meet the Press_ interview last October, the couple revealed the story of how they met. They each discussed how their strong friendship eventually developed into something deeper, though both were relatively tight-lipped on the exact manner of the development. Perhaps that is because the true bedrock of Stark and Rogers’ relationship wasn’t laid by a first kiss or a romantic declaration, but something else entirely.“There was always something about Steve, you know?” Stark says, smirking and raising an eyebrow suggestively before his expression becomes much more serious. His brown eyes are fond when he talks about Rogers. “But things changed between us after he saved me from myself at the charity benefit thing.

“I have flashbacks and panic attacks sometimes — side effect of saving the world from time to time. This particular night, I was on the verge of slipping into a full-on anxiety attack, and Steve stepped in like my own personal hero to get me out of there. He just sat with me and talked me through it, but that was all I really needed in that moment. You could say it left an impression.”

An impression, and the foundation for something more. From that point on, Rogers and Stark grew closer. Rogers started spending time down in Stark’s workshop. They started working together on projects; Rogers and Stark collaborated on new Avengers equipment or gear upgrades. Before either of them knew it, they were inventing projects to work on together. They also started spending time together outside of work. 

“We were together a lot of the time, just doing whatever,” Rogers says. He realized, after some time, that Stark was making an effort to show him things he thought Rogers would appreciate about the twenty-first century. They went to a Dodgers game, several of the city’s museums and dozens of different restaurants. “One time, Tony found me when I was sketching and asked if I wanted to show him where I grew up. He said something about how he never got around to seeing Brooklyn, but it was an obvious excuse. I knew what he was actually doing; we both did. He was giving me an opportunity to explore what became of my home without being alone if I wanted it, and I did. More than I even knew. I was so grateful for that, and I still am. He was just… very thoughtful.”

Stories like those, told with a soft, affectionate smile or the hint of a smirk, are common from both Stark and Rogers. Spending any length of time with the pair does nothing but reaffirm the legitimacy of the stories they tell about each other. They are attuned to each other in a way that is rare, even among well-established couples. 

Stark nudges Rogers when he intentionally leaves out details — “he thinks he has to protect me,” Stark says, rolling his eyes. Rogers glares at Stark when he refuses to answer a question about which of Rogers’ character traits annoys him. “If you don’t list a few, I can offer up dozens,” Rogers says. “But I’d rather you just answer honestly.” 

They have a way of knowing not only when the other is leaving something out or refusing to say what needs to be said, but also when the other is saying something silently.“It’s kind of terrifying,” Clint Barton says. As a former covert-operations SHIELD agent and current Avenger, Barton thinks himself to be something of an expert on clandestine conversation. “Steve and Tony have some next-level sixth sense for what the other is feeling or thinking at home and in the field.”

Natasha Romanoff, the Avenger known as Black Widow, politely declined to talk about Stark and Rogers at length, but she did offer something insightful about their relationship nonetheless. “Tony and Steve are exceptionally well-suited for each other. The fact that they’re both superheroes themselves puts them in the position to accept the other’s constant need to put himself in danger. And, while it might seem hard to believe, they value the same things. I saw their relationship coming from a mile away. They’re usually on the exact same page, excluding the months it took them to realize their feelings and the occasional fight.”

And fight, they do. Just like any couple, Rogers and Stark fight on occasion. According to the other Avengers, the typical fight lasts about two days and renders both Rogers and Stark absolutely miserable. Sullen, irritable and morose were among the words used to describe the two in the midst of a fight. When the fight ends, Banner, Barton and Romanoff usually receive some sort of gift basket or newly-designed piece of tech. It serves as Stark and Rogers’ apology for subjecting the other Avengers to the fallout from their relationship in the shared Avengers Tower living space. 

Rogers and Stark agree that, most often, their fights are over each others’ safety and decision making in the field. Their first fight, however, was not caused by injury or by a perceived miscalculation on a mission. It was much more mundane.

“Our first fight was entirely my fault,” Rogers says, already raising a hand to stop Stark’s protest before he can get a word out. “I’d been offered a job in D.C. I had no intention of taking it, but I told the organization I would think about it. I didn’t tell Tony, but he found out about the offer from a mutual friend and — completely understandably — assumed I’d been keeping things from him and was planning to leave. We fought, we talked about it, and I think our relationship got a lot stronger after that.”

To hear Rogers and Stark tell it, their first fight helped them realize exactly how much they meant to each other and how important their relationship was. It was a turning point, Stark says. It made everything more real. “It’s easy to get caught up in a relationship when everything is going perfectly, but it becomes pretty clear whether or not something is serious after a fight like that. We hurt each other, but we found a way to work through it because we have something worth fighting for.”

Undoubtedly, they spend more time fighting for each other than against. In the field and in the press, Stark and Rogers regularly go to bat for each another. Most recent was Rogers’ heat-of-the-moment answer to a journalist’s question right after the couple went public with their relationship. He doesn’t regret what he said in the slightest and, much to Stark’s frustration, often wishes he picked more fights with the press at large. “In the field, it’s much easier to watch his back,” Rogers says. “It’s more difficult to keep people from saying these horrible and flatly untrue things about him. I’d spend all my time setting the record straight if he wanted me to, but Tony says he doesn’t care.”

“I care much more about what _you_ think about me, honey,” Stark says, smiling at Rogers. “Sure, sometimes it’s nice to see something written about me — or us — that’s true. But I know who you are, I know who I am, and I know that we love each other. That’s all I really need.”

As far as formulas for relationships go, Stark and Rogers seem to found what works for them. Neither thinks he is good enough for the other, which means they’re perpetually caught in cycles of self-improvement. The longer they’re together, the more the worst parts of their personalities are tempered and the more the best parts emerge. 

“I’m happier when I’m around him, and I know I’m more pleasant to be around,” Stark says. “I’m better at meeting deadlines, I drink less, I sleep more. I’m better in the field, and I’m a better friend. Steve just makes me a better person, and I love him for that.”

“I second that,” Rogers agrees. “And I’ll add that Tony managed to, in a ridiculously short amount of time, make me _like_ some things about the twenty-first century. He helped me see that I had to stop wishing I could go back and change the past. He was the reason I started thinking about my future and, now, our future. I could not be more grateful for that.”

Stark’s belief that he is not good enough for Rogers and Rogers’ belief that he is not good enough for Stark is exactly what makes them perfect for each other. More than that, it is the exact thing that qualifies them to co-lead, or co-parent, the Avengers — no matter what Stark says about Rogers being the sole leader. 

* * *

The last line, Tony realized, was what had made Steve frown. Addison’s reference to Tony’s adamant insistence that _Steve_ was the only leader of the Avengers was accurate but still frustrated Steve to no end. Before he could get up to go admit to Steve that, yes, the article had been good, something else on the page caught his eye.

It was a simple, playful sidebar that ran alongside the more serious story about them. Tony remembered answering the questions for the section that had been labeled “Couples Q &A.” A detailed illustration of Steve’s shield and Tony’s Iron Man face plate were in the upper right-hand corner of the boxed section.

Apparently, Steve had been asked the same questions. Tony absolutely wanted to see his answers to these.

* * *

  ** _Q: What do people fail to appreciate most about your partner?_**

**Stark:** His strategic intelligence. I think it’s very easy for people to look at Steve and see this… strong, courageous, commanding person. All of that is undoubtedly true, and it helps that he’s also drop-dead gorgeous. But the man has, without a doubt, one of the sharpest strategic minds I’ve ever encountered. In the field, he sees solutions no one else even considers. He’s just smart in general, which people tend to miss, but there’s something about the way his brain processes information in a war zone that’s unlike anything I’ve ever seen. Not to mention he spends so much damn time reading; he’s always learning and strategizing. I don’t understand how people miss it, but that’s definitely what they don’t appreciate about him. It’s ludicrous because it saves lives all the time.

**Rogers:** Oh geez. You want me to pick one thing? There’s so much about Tony that people fail to see or, worse, criticize him for incorrectly. But I think… Okay, I’ve got it. People fail to appreciate his unwavering benevolence. Whether he’s putting on the Iron Man suit or creating a self-sustaining source of clean energy, Tony has the best interest of the world at heart. He loves people, he wants to protect them, and no matter how many times he’s been betrayed or attacked he has never lost sight of that. He is generous, kind, thoughtful and caring. He will give and give and give until he saves the world or dies trying. As someone who loves him dearly, it’s admirable and frustrating — sometimes in unequal measures.

  ** _Q: What drives you insane about your partner?_**

**Stark:** What, are you trying to get me stuck on the couch for a week or something? [Laughs.] I’m kidding, I’m kidding. Steve would never do that. But um… Okay, well this isn’t what you wanted but it’s what you’re getting: his poker face. The thing about Steve is he’s actually a mischievous little shit. And he gets away with 99 percent of it because he has an _amazing_ poker face. It’s absolutely and completely unfair.

**Rogers:** Um. You’re going to have to give me a minute for this one. Hmm… Well, this applies mostly in the field, and I doubt that’s what you were looking for, but. [Shrugs.] So, Tony comes off as impulsive. It seems like he’s constantly jumping into situations head-first without thinking about the consequences, and the rest of the team has to play catch up. But the thing about Tony is he’s always so many steps ahead of the rest of us in his thought process that it’s not _actually_ impulsivity. For Tony, it’s enacting a well thought-out and comprehensive plan to take on the given problem. He’s already weighed the pros and cons and calculated the likely success rate with JARVIS’ help. And you have to understand that to understand that the thing that drives me crazy is actually just… his inability to explain his genius to the rest of us in the short timespan we usually have. Which sounds just as ridiculous to him as it probably will to anyone reading this. [Laughs nervously, then sighs.] But it’s a matter of his safety and him taking needless risks with his own life. And now you can see why we have so many fights about this.

  ** _Q: What’s the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever heard about yourself?_**

**Stark:** That I’m cheating on Steve. I’ve done some things I’m not particularly proud of, and God knows there are a handful of things I’d remove from the public record if I could. But I have never and will never cheat on Steve. He’s the love of my life. I’m a genius, not a moron.

**Rogers:** Oh, easy. Hands down that Tony turned me gay. [Laughs.] That’s just… not how it works. I was attracted to men in the ’30s. I went into the ice attracted to men, and when I came out — no pun intended — I was just as attracted to men as before. Same way I’m just as attracted to women now as I was then. Tony is unbelievably gorgeous, don’t get me wrong, but even he’s not capable of changing someone’s sexuality.

  ** _Q: When did you first start to see your partner as more than a friend?_**

**Stark:** You’ve seen Steve, right? If you’re into men and you spend any time around him at all, I’m pretty sure you see him as potentially more than a friend. I always thought he was breathtakingly gorgeous, even when we were fighting at the start. Somewhere in the middle, we became friends. Then, eventually, I realized my feelings for him were deeper than some kind of passing attraction with the help of the lovely, fearless, and fearsome Pepper Potts. She’s usually involved when I realize I’m being dense about my emotions. And the rest, as they say, is history.

**Rogers:** I didn’t realize it at the time, but looking back I know exactly when I started to see Tony as more than a friend. One day, out of nowhere, he just invited me to a Dodgers game. They were playing in New York, and Tony knew — knows — how much I love baseball. But as we were sitting there on the first base line watching the game and talking, it became painfully obvious that Tony had absolutely zero interest in baseball. He’d never been to a Mets game in his life, and he probably wouldn’t have ever gone if it weren’t for me. He did it to make me happy, and it worked. He does things like that all the time. It’s just who he is, but it meant a lot to me. More than he probably knows, and certainly more than I realized at the start.

* * *

 Tony chuckled and rolled the magazine up so he could brandish the paper tube easily in one hand. He wanted to find Steve. No, needed to. He’d finally gotten to the bottom of it — and without even trying! Luckily, Steve was only steps away in the living room on one of the recliners that faced the windows.

Tony walked up behind him and swatted him on the head with the rolled magazine.

“I finally got my answer,” Tony said, smirking as he rounded the oversized chair and tried to assess if there was room for him in it with Steve. Steve rolled his eyes at Tony’s accusation and lifted an arm in an obvious invitation for Tony to join him. “And you lied.” Tony was delighted.

“What are you talking about?” Steve asked, the standard confused crease forming between his eyebrows. “I didn’t lie about anything.”

“Well you’ve either been lying to me or you lied to the American public. I’m not sure which I want more.” That was a lie. He’d get way more embarrassment mileage if Steve lied to the American public. Of course, he’d get to play up Steve’s residual Catholic guilt complex if Steve had lied to _him_ , but that wasn’t nearly as fun. 

Steve readjusted Tony so he was half on Steve’s lap and they weren’t both awkwardly squished into the recliner. Tony ignored his efforts in favor of wrapping his arms around Steve’s neck to focus Steve’s attention. Steve blinked at him, confused.

“I repeat: what are you talking about?” Steve asked.

“You told Addison you didn’t start seeing me as more than a friend until our first Dodgers game.”

“Right,” Steve nodded. “Why is that a lie?”

“You’ve told _me_ on _multiple occasions_ that you were attracted to me the moment you met me. So. Which is it, Rogers?”

“Those are two completely separate questions,” Steve said, sinking back into the couch. Tony wasn’t having that — he followed, his arms still locked around Steve’s neck. Steve didn’t move him away, which left Tony’s head tucked into Steve’s neck and the rest of him, more or less, on top of Steve in the chair.

“They are _not_ completely separate questions.”

“They are, in fact. One is ‘when did you first realize you were attracted to Tony?’ and the other is ‘when did you start to see Tony as more than a friend?’ Do you know why I know that? Because I answered both,” Steve shrugged, and Tony felt the movement more than he saw it. “Not my fault they didn’t choose to print both answers.”

Tony groaned. So much for finally ensuring he was getting an honest answer using journalism. 

“Well what did you say?” Tony demanded, impatient.

“Wouldn’t you like to know?” Steve said, the smirk evident in his tone. He laughed when Tony let out another louder, more distressed groan. Steve untangled himself from Tony’s grasp and managed to get enough space between them that he could see Tony’s face. “Tony, we’ve gone over this. Dozens of times. I’m not lying to you. I told Addison the same thing I tell you every time you ask and expect the answer to be different.” Steve paused, thought it over, and then amended the statement with just the faintest hint of red, high on his cheeks. “Well, maybe not the exact same thing. But the same general answer.”

Tony laughed a little. He couldn’t help it; Steve was adorable when he got flustered. Tony sighed and leaned back into Steve. 

“What did you think of the actual article?” Steve asked, resting his chin on Tony’s shoulder. 

“It was… nice. Reading something about us. Like that.”

“Something that wasn’t full of inaccuracies? Something that represented you the way you are?” 

Tony shrugged a little under Steve’s chin and nodded. Steve knew that wasn’t the full answer, so he waited. Sometimes staying silent urged Tony to say more. He liked filling silences.

A minute passed with Tony in deep introspection. Steve knew he was processing everything he’d read in that genius brain of his, but Steve still wasn’t expecting Tony’s eventual answer.

“It said we love each other,” Tony said. His voice was impossibly soft, almost wondering. 

“It did,” Steve said, smiling a little. He pressed a kiss to Tony’s temple and let him continue working through his thoughts.

“It did more than that, though,” Tony added after a minute. “It… _showed_ people we love each other. I don’t — I. Does that even make sense?”

Steve took Tony’s right hand in his left and squeezed. 

“It makes perfect sense,” Steve agreed. “I thought so too. I think it’s called good writing. Or something.”

Tony huffed out a little half-laugh and went right back to thinking. 

“Do you want to hear my favorite part?” Steve asked, a little hesitant to break into his thoughts. Tony nodded a little. “ _‘Stark’s belief that he is not good enough for Rogers, and Rogers’ belief that he is not good enough for Stark is exactly what makes them perfect for each other,’_ ” Steve quoted the passage from memory. “ _‘More than that, it is the exact thing that qualifies them to co-lead, or co-parent, the Avengers — no matter what Stark says about Rogers being the sole leader.’_ ” 

Tony smiled. 

“Yeah,” he said. Tony still seemed a little distracted, but Steve thought it was from good thoughts rather than bad. “I liked that part, too.”

* * *

Tony walked into their bedroom with the intent of joining Steve who he was sure would be asleep. It was 2 a.m., after all. It wasn’t unreasonable to expect Steve to be sleeping. The man got up at 6 every morning to go on a run. _Voluntarily._

Instead, Steve was smirking down at his phone and only looked up to greet Tony for a second.

“I was wondering when you’d make it up here,” Steve said. 

“I’m here,” Tony said. He was happy Steve was up, even if he was a little confused. “What are you doing up?”

“Come see for yourself,” Steve said. He sounded very proud of himself. Smug. That was… interesting. In a good way, Tony hoped.

“What did you do, Rogers?” Suspicion crept into Tony’s voice now. He couldn’t help it.

“Come here and I’ll show you,” Steve said, waving him toward the bed.

Tony sighed and acquiesced. He padded over to his side of the bed and flopped down. He scooted over to Steve so their shoulders were touching. 

“Okay. Show me what you’ve got.”

Steve beamed and passed his phone to Tony. Tony stared at it. 

He was looking at a… Twitter account? 

More specifically a Twitter account with the name Steve Rogers at the top with a blue “verified” check mark to the right of it. A Twitter account with the handle @SteveRogers. Steve’s face smiled up at him. It was one of the Avengers publicity shots. The account header said “Joined in February 2014” and Tony was just… confused. 

“I don’t get it,” Tony admitted finally. That was a real bummer because Steve had been so thrilled with whatever he wanted Tony to see. Steve didn’t seem deterred.

“Just scroll down and read the Tweets.” 

“Okay…” Tony scrolled. And found himself reading a Twitter thread:   

> Steve Rogers @SteveRogers 4m
> 
> Today @IAmIronMan pointed out that something @AddMorre asked me about during one interview for the Times piece she wrote didn’t make it into the final draft (1/5)

  

> Steve Rogers @SteveRogers 4m
> 
> It matters to him, so I called in a favor. Here you go Tony. You get one more Q&A.
> 
> Q: When did you first realize you were attracted to Tony? (2/5)

  

> Steve Rogers @SteveRogers 3m
> 
> A: The minute I saw him. Um. I mean — well, yeah. That’s what I mean. SHIELD sent over this Iron Man briefing packet and, of course, it came with his picture. He’s gorgeous. (3/5)

 

> Steve Rogers @SteveRogers 3m
> 
> A day later we got into it in between bouts of saving the world. I realized he was brilliant, brave and — above all else — a hero. Those things only made him more attractive. (4/5)

   

> Steve Rogers @SteveRogers 2m  
> 
> 
> Truthfully, I have a thing for headstrong brunettes with big personalities. But, you know, who doesn’t? (5/5)

Tony glanced up at Steve who was still grinning proudly.

“See?” Steve said. “I told you I wasn’t lying. I had JARVIS transcribe it exactly. Addison sent over the recording and everything.”

Tony laughed a little. As if Tony would actually suspect Steve of going to all this trouble just to make something up. 

“You did this?” he asked. He had to be certain. “This is your Twitter account?”

“Well, yeah,” Steve said, in a way that sounded more like ‘well, duh’ than a 95-year-old should be capable of, in Tony’s opinion. “That’s what the blue check mark means. Or so I’m told.”

Tony chuckled. He supposed that was one way of looking at it. 

“Yes, that’s what that means. I just… why did you set this up?”

“You wanted to know my answer,” Steve said. “But I figured it wouldn’t hurt to let the rest of the world know it, too.” He paused, taking in Tony’s expression, which didn’t seem to fall safely on the side of happy or upset. He mostly just looked confused and surprised. “Was I wrong?”

“No,” Tony laughed and shook his head. “I just…” Tony skimmed the thread again, marveling at the words themselves and the thoughtfulness behind them. This time, he noticed the likes and retweets. He was grinning. “You’re going to break Twitter,” Tony said. It was a statement of fact at this point. Steve’s tweet was going to shut the site down. 

Steve’s eyebrows pinched together in genuine concern. “Is that… bad?”

In Steve-speak that essentially meant ‘can it be fixed?’ The answer was, of course, ‘yes.’

“Not at all,” Tony said, smiling in earnest. “It’s hilarious. And also very sweet. I… really love you, you know?”

“I know,” Steve said, smiling. “I love you too. So I figured I could do this for you, and maybe you’d believe me.”

He tossed Steve’s phone to the foot of the bed. It was virtually indestructible; it wouldn’t matter where the thing ended up. Tony moved, throwing a leg over Steve’s waist so he was straddling him. He leaned down and captured Steve’s lips in a short, sweet kiss that didn’t quite match the suggestive position.

“I believe you,” Tony said, brushing his fingers through Steve’s hair innocently. His smile became more of a smirk. “How could I not?” 

He kissed Steve again, this time with clear intent. They parted breathing heavily. It took Steve a minute to respond. Tony was proud of himself and started to kiss his way from the corner of Steve’s lips to _that spot_ just below his ear. Steve’s breath hitched in his throat.

“You seemed to have trouble believing me before…” Steve breathed unevenly. He tipped his chin up to give Tony better access. Tony dutifully began nipping his way down Steve’s neck. If he tried hard enough, he could sometimes get a hickey to last on Steve’s skin until morning. 

“My mistake,” Tony whispered against Steve’s skin. “Let me make it up to you?”

“You don’t have — ”

Tony abandoned Steve’s neck and cut him off with a deep kiss that left no room for argument. When he pulled back he glared at Steve skeptically. 

“ _Have_ to?” Tony scoffed. “Really?”

Steve rolled his eyes, but he was smiling. He reached up and wound his hand into Tony’s hair, using that to pull Tony back down. 

“Yeah, okay,” Steve whispered, just before pulling Tony into another breathless kiss. 

* * *

The next morning Natasha told Steve to check Tony’s Twitter account and found a reply to his thread from the night before:  

> Tony Stark @IAmIronMan 32m
> 
> @SteveRogers: Me. I happen to have a thing for sexy, patriotic blondes who are incredibly sweet without even realizing it  😉❤️.

Steve smiled. Natasha rolled her eyes. Twitter crashed again half an hour later. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... what did you think? I'm a little nervous about this chapter because:  
> 1) I had to go between so many "voices" for this chapter. My normal one for this story, the one Addison used to write them, AND then Steve and Tony's for the Tweets.  
> 2) I made you all wait SO long and I'm so sorry.  
> And, finally, 3) I barely proofread this all the way through once.
> 
> I love you all and appreciate you reading <3\. Please let me know what you think. I have the next two chapters in progress, and I hope to be much quicker about finishing them. Thank you all for your patience and support :).


	17. We'll Talk About It Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's now April 2014. If you know what that means, please don't hate me 😬😅. Also just be aware that this is a bit of a significant time jump from the last one. I did my best to provide enough context clues to help everyone follow when/where they are and why. If you struggle to follow it though, and you have any suggestions to improve it that'd be great. 
> 
> Otherwise, enjoy!

“Sir, I hate to interrupt, but…” JARVIS said, pulling Tony out of his work.

“What’s up, J? Did I miss a call from Steve?”

Tony couldn’t quite wrap his head around the fact that Fury was dead. Worse than that knowledge was Tony’s growing suspicion that perhaps Fury wasn’t actually the target at all — he’d been shot in _Steve’s_ D.C. apartment. But Steve had promised he’d follow up with Tony as soon as he had more answers from SHIELD. That had been a while ago, so Steve really should be calling again any time now.

“No,” JARVIS replied, his tone making Tony even edgier than before. He fucking _knew_ he should have gone to D.C. the minute someone got the drop on Fury. Damn Steve and his insistence that he had everything under control. “The monitoring protocol you have set up to ensure Captain Rogers’ wellbeing has detected some concerning developments.”

Tony’s stomach dropped.

“Is he okay?” 

“Nothing suggests he is severely injured,” JARVIS said, selecting his words carefully. “But I no longer have a visual feed.”

“Show me.”

The screen in front of Tony lit up instantaneously, filling with footage from two different security camera angles of Steve in a SHIELD elevator. The footage was time-stamped from two and a half minutes ago. Everything was _wrong,_ from Steve’s posture to the number of people on the elevator with him. 

Tony couldn’t help being a little proud; his boyfriend was a fucking tactical _genius_ who had a hard time trusting others. Of _course_ Steve knew he was going to be attacked long before it actually happened, and _wow_ Steve really was a sight to behold when he was beating the shit out of people. But these people… they were SHIELD agents. Tony even recognized one of them.

“What the fuck? Fucking Rumlow? Really?”

Tony was _livid_. He’d conducted deep-dive background checks on all the members of Steve’s new STRIKE team except Natasha. But clearly this fucker had been hiding something major, and now Steve was paying the price. 

Steve was being betrayed by someone he’d been working with for months. _Fuck._

Tony was pissed. Judging by Steve’s expression, he was beyond pissed too.

Tony watched the next part of footage in horror as Steve realized SHIELD had turned on him and he was trapped. Steve turned and used his shield to send the elevator into a free fall. Unfortunately, being on a lower level didn’t seem to have changed anyone’s mind about attacking him, which left Steve without many options. Tony’s heart skipped a beat as Steve weighed his options of fighting his way through rogue SHIELD agents or launching himself through several layers of a glass wall. 

“Rogers, I swear to fucking God you are never going to hear the end of this — ” Tony stopped short as he watched Steve jump and the footage cut to another security camera. Steve hit the ground, hard. His shield took the majority of the impact, but Tony could tell Steve was hurt by the way he stayed down. Because it was Steve, he only gave himself about two seconds before he was up, lurched forward, and started running. “Holy fuck, Steve. JARVIS, what the hell is going on at SHIELD?”

JARVIS seemed to understand that, at least at the moment, it was a rhetorical question.

Steve made it to the garage. Damn, Tony was beyond glad he’d tricked out Steve’s motorcycle well before any of this shit because he needed every bit of extra speed and power to get through the absolute firestorm of blockades SHIELD was throwing up against Captain _fucking_ America. The security footage out on the bridge was spotty, but Tony gathered enough to see that Steve single-handedly took down a SHIELD plane and got away.

“You said you _don’t_ have eyes on him, J?” Tony asked. 

“No, Sir. I’m afraid I do not.”

“Alright, and what about his phone? Did he toss it?”

SHIELD was clearly after him, and Steve knew enough to ditch his phone.

“Captain Rogers’ phone is offline. I would suggest you begin working on a secure line. I imagine he will be contacting you soon.”

“Right,” Tony started working on getting the footage from other D.C. cameras in public areas while simultaneously securing his personal phone line. “JARVIS, I want the tower on high alert starting now. Security checks at every entrance.  If anyone leaves I want a record of it, and I don’t want anyone coming in without the proper security clearance for _any_ reason. On top of that, add a complete lockdown of the top five levels. Avengers-only access.

“Let Bruce know what’s going on. Nat’s in D.C., and I’m assuming she’ll be with Steve shortly. If Clint gets back from whatever mission he’s on, please inform me and I’ll clear him personally. Same with Pep in L.A. Otherwise, no one, and I mean _no one,_ is walking into our private quarters until we know what the hell is going on.” 

Those floors were reserved for Avengers use anyway. The cleaning crews didn’t need to be up there right now. 

“Shall I continue using facial recognition software to find Captain Rogers?”

“Yes, of course.” Tony sighed. “Thanks, J.”

“Any time, Sir.”

By the time Bruce was alerted to what was going on and made it down to the workshop, Tony was already going a little insane. He hadn’t had eyes on Steve in fifteen minutes.

“Tony, JARVIS says we’re on lockdown? Something about SHIELD turning on Steve? What the hell is going on?”

“I don’t know!” Tony snapped. “I have no fucking idea what is happening, but everything is on fire and _I can’t find Steve._ ”

“Shit.”

“Yes.”

“How can I help?”

“Watch my phone. If it rings, I’m fairly certain it’s going to be Steve. And if you have any suggestions about where I should be looking — ”

“Well I’m guessing you’ve got traffic cameras and any security cameras in public places. Have you tried… libraries? Hospitals?”

“Bruce?!” Tony didn’t want to think about Steve, alone and hurt in a D.C. hospital.

“Not because he’s hurt, necessarily. I’m thinking of places he might go for information or to lie low for a bit.”

“Okay,” Tony said and started working. 

“Have you gotten in contact with Nat?”

“Her phone is dead. Went dead the same time as Steve’s. I’m sure that’s not a coincidence.”

“And no one has tried to reach out?”

“Not as of right now.” 

“I feel silly to even ask this, but are you sure no one from SHIELD can track you tracking Steve?”

Tony paused, his fingers momentarily frozen on the keyboard. Then he started moving again.

“Yes,” Tony said a second later. “I was 98 percent sure, and now I’m absolutely positive. No one is going to be able to get anything from me.”

“Okay,” Bruce said. Tony worked in silence with Bruce standing by as backup. Time dragged by, and Tony was having no luck in finding Steve.

Tony’s phone started ringing. Bruce passed it to Tony and he jabbed the answer button.

“Hello?”

“Hey Tony,” Steve said. He sounded tired and frustrated, but he was very much alive.

“Are you hurt?” 

“No, no. I’m fine. I’m sorry I couldn’t call you sooner. Things went to hell and now — ”

“Where the fuck are you? I’ve been searching the whole city for the past hour.”

“I figured you were. I’m sorry. I’m with Nat. We’re at a mall.” Tony gestured toward Bruce who dutifully took up Tony’s abandoned post at the computer. He started searching D.C. shopping malls with the software that would recognize Steve’s face. “We need to look into the contents of the USB drive Fury gave me right before he died. Natasha wants to run it in an Apple store. Something about being in a public place preventing SHIELD from blowing us up.”

“Okay, woah. What the fuck is going on?”

“SHIELD is compromised, but I’m sure you already know that. We’re not sure how high it goes or who is involved. But it’s safe to say a good portion of the STRIKE team is on the wrong side of this fight.”

“I saw that fucker Rumlow try to beat the shit out of you in an elevator. Guess that explains some of it.”

“You saw that?” It sounded like Steve was wincing. 

“Yes, Captain Dumbass. And I saw you launch yourself through the side of a goddamn building only to fall _forty fucking stories._ What the hell were you thinking?” 

“Well I didn’t exactly have many other options, Tony.” 

“You could have died!” 

Bruce cut in then. “Is now really the best time for — ?”

“Shut up,” Tony said, stopping Bruce’s sentence short without any real heat.

“I’m sorry, sweetheart.” Steve replied, ignoring Tony and Bruce’s back and forth. “I wasn’t trying to scare you.”

“I know. We’ll be talking about it later, though. So let’s back up. Why aren’t you bringing the USB to me? You know I’m the person for tech stuff.”

“You’re in New York, and we’re on a tight schedule. Natasha’s second best at this.”

“Fine. That’s — whatever, it’s fine. What’s your exit strategy?”

“Depends on what SHIELD does.”

“What do you think they’re going to do?”

“Well I’m expecting them to send the STRIKE team I _helped fucking train_ to come after me and Nat.”

“And that means your plan is?”

“Try to get out before they arrive. If all else fails, fight our way out.”

“Jesus, Steve. I’m coming to D.C.”

“Tony — ”

“No, don’t ‘Tony’ me. You obviously don’t have _any_ plan whatsoever, and I am not just going to sit here on my ass and wait to hear about what happens next on the fucking news — ”

“Tony.” Steve’s voice had changed drastically. It was hushed and strained. “I need you to be _safe._ Right now, Nat and I have got this. We’re going to figure out what’s on the USB and then we’ll report back, okay? I’ll call you back as soon as I can.”

“Steve, you can’t seriously be asking me to stay here.”

“I am. If this goes the way I think it will, we’re going to need your support. From New York. From the tower.”

“Steve — ”

“From somewhere we _know_ is 100 percent secure. Not anywhere that SHIELD has tampered with or can get access to and compromise. Come on, you know I’m right.”

Tony glared at the image on the screen. Bruce had located Steve, and Tony was now staring at the back of his head as Steve spoke into the payphone. 

“It’s not that I don’t want you here,” Steve said softly. “I would love nothing more than to see you right now.” On the screen, Tony watched Steve’s shoulder’s slump in exhaustion and, if Tonyhad to guess, pain. “But the best call is for you to stay in New York.”

“Fine,” Tony choked out. “ _Fine_. But I’m coming to you at the first sign of serious trouble. Got it?”

“Sure.” Tony could hear the fond smile in Steve’s voice.

“I love you,” Tony said, his voice going soft. He tried not to care that Bruce was so close. He and Steve were rarely so verbally affectionate in the company of others. 

“I love you too, Tony,” Steve said. “I have to go.”

“I know. Please be safe.”

“Will do.”

“And hey, Steve?” 

“What?”

“That outfit Nat put you in?” Tony shook his head. “Completely ridiculous.”

Steve laughed outright at that. “Trust me, I know. Talk soon.”

The line clicked and went dead. Tony sighed deeply. 

“Well he’s alive,” Tony said after a minute. “That’s something.”

Bruce reached out and squeezed Tony’s shoulder in support.

“It’s Steve,” Bruce said simply. “He’s going to be okay.”

“Just… let’s keep the cameras on him.”

“JARVIS has got that covered. As long as there’s a camera that can be on them, we’ll have the footage.”

Right, because Natasha was in danger too. Perfect. A huge portion of his family was running around — _alone_ — fighting some organized crime syndicate that has worked its way into the ranks of SHIELD.

The next few minutes were painfully boring. Hipster Steve and Nat walked into an Apple store, powered up the USB drive, pretended to be _engaged_ — he was going to chat with Nat about that particular cover at some point — and found some coordinates in New Jersey. By the time they’d done that, SHIELD was already on their tail. 

“They’re in the building, Steve,” Tony muttered at the screen. Nat and Steve were already aware of that. Steve was prepared for a fight but, naturally, Natasha was able to redirect and avoid a very public conflict. She was pretty good, Tony had to give her that.

“She and I are _definitely_ having a chat later,” Tony said, watching Nat kiss his boyfriend. Cover or not, there was no way she wasn’t doing this on purpose.

Bruce snorted.

Tony felt marginally better about the fact that Steve was so _clearly_ uncomfortable with all of it. 

They reached the mall’s parking garage and Steve — upstanding, law-abiding citizen _Steve_ — hijacked a pristine blue Chevy pickup. At least he had good taste in cars.

They left the garage in a hurry, and that’s where Tony lost them. 

About half an hour later, Tony’s phone rang again. 

“Hello?”

“Hey,” Steve said. “It’s us.”

“Where are you calling from?”

“The car Steve boosted,” Nat said, clearly smiling. “Speaking of, where did Captain America learn how to steal a car?”

“Nazi Germany,” Steve said. “At least the first time. Tony the second.”

Nat snorted and Tony rolled his eyes.

“And we’re borrowing. Take your feet off the dash,” Steve said a second later.

“You know, I have a question for the two of you — of which you do not have to answer. I feel like if you don’t answer it though, you’re kind of answering it…”

“What?” Steve asked, impatient. Tony was with him; they didn’t exactly have time for this sort of dawdling.

“Is Steve always that stiff of a kisser?”

Tony snorted loudly on the other end of the line.

“That bad, huh?” Steve asked, laughing. He didn’t sound even the littlest bit upset about the slight.

“To answer your question — no, absolutely not,” Tony said. He was intimately aware of that fact. “But also: I have a bone to pick with you, Nat. You couldn’t have come up with a better cover than _fiancé_?”

“Eh,” Nat shrugged. “I probably could have. But my way was more fun.”

“Yeah. Not for me,” Tony sounded just a little bit bitter. 

Steve was trying not to grin and failing. Nat rolled her eyes at him.

“If it makes you feel any better, it doesn’t sound like Nat was really having much fun either,” Steve said.

“I mean, I’m not sure I would go so far as to say that — ” Nat started, smirking. 

“Yes, you would. You said it yourself; I’m a terrible kisser. Please, can we move on?”

“It’s completely unfair, Steve,” Tony whined. “I haven’t even _seen_ you in over two weeks, and she gets to kiss you now? Unacceptable.”

“I’m with you, sweetheart. I am. Unfortunately, right now we have to think about the bigger picture.”

“Fine. I’ll add this to the list of things we need to talk about later.”

“What?” Steve spluttered. “Why does this require further discussion?”

“You kissed someone else!” 

“I was _not_ a willing participant in that kiss.”

“If you think that is going to get you out of talking about — ”

“Boys,” Natasha cut in, sounding incredibly bored. “Not that this isn’t beyond entertaining… but there _is_ a reason we called you, Tony.”

“Ugh. Fine. What do you want?”

“We’re on our way to New Jersey,” Nat said.

“Not by choice, I assume?”

“God, definitely not,” Steve said, his voice full of disgust.

Tony chuckled. “So, do you know why you’re headed to The Garden State?”

“All we could determine was that the origins of the USB were in New Jersey. So we’re going to the source.”

“And you’re hoping…?” 

“We’re hoping we can have you on backup. In case SHIELD goes a little crazy.” 

Tony sighed. _Great._

“Alright. Give me the coordinates. I’ll see what I can do.”  

* * *

 As things went, when Steve and Nat arrived at Camp Leigh hours later, Tony had enough of a handle on the place to detect the incoming missile with a decent head start. He sent Nat the warning when it was two minutes out, and successive warnings after that.

He was sure they were fine. Absolutely positive, in fact. 

It wasn’t stopping him from going out of his mind the longer they went without contact.

“Bruce, you’re not picking up anything on the SHIELD channels that suggests they’ve found them, right?” Tony asked, sounding desperate even to his own ears.

“No, nothing. You gave them plenty of a head start. I’m sure they got out just fine and they’re just looking for somewhere else to lie low for a bit.”

“It’s been four hours, Bruce.” Tony didn’t want to think about exactly how long that was. “Four hours since the explosion, and we haven’t heard anything.”

“Maybe the car they stole this time didn’t have a phone feature.”

“Maybe they were both killed in the explosion.”

“Come on, Tony,” Bruce shook his head. “You know Nat, and you know Steve. You know they’re not that easy to kill.”

“That doesn’t make this any easier.”

Bruce reached over and squeezed Tony’s shoulder. “I know. It sucks. But I’m sure they’re okay.”

“I wish they’d just _call._ ” 

“They will, Tony. As soon as they can.”

So they waited. Three more hours passed. Tony and Bruce continued combing the footage of every public camera between New Jersey and D.C. for a glimpse of Steve or Natasha. They had no luck.

Pepper got to the tower at 5:03 a.m. and Tony took a break to personally bring her through the security checks. She’d been in L.A. and had dropped everything as soon as she heard what was going on.

“Tony,” she said, her voice impossibly soft as she wrapped her arms around him in the private elevator to the Avengers’ floors. “Do you know what the hell is going on? Why is someone after Steve?”

“All we know is that SHIELD is compromised. It’s not what we thought it was. Nat and Steve were tracking down the source of this USB they killed Fury over, and that’s the last we heard before — ” Tony’s voice broke, and he shoved a hand through his hair. “Before SHIELD lit the place up with a short-range ballistic missile. Fuck.”

Pepper reached out and took Tony’s hand in hers.

“He’s okay, Tony,” she said, her voice steady and sure. 

“How do you know that?”

“I just do. Think about it. He’s Captain America. If something had happened to him, do you really think they’d be able to keep it a secret? He can’t disappear without someone leaking the details. He’s not a regular person.”

“That… weirdly makes me feel better. I just wish he’d _call_.”

Pepper squeezed his hand as they walked into the workshop where Bruce was waiting. 

“He’ll call. Soon.”

“Tony, I was thinking. Does Steve have any friends in D.C.? Or near that area? Anyone he might trust enough to go to so they can ride this out?”

“Sam!” Tony said, quickly. “Why the hell didn’t I think of Sam?”

“Shit, you’re right. Do you know where he lives?”

“Nat did a background check on him before he came to the tower for Steve’s birthday. Should be in there.”

Bruce typed a few things into the computer and suddenly four camera feeds popped up, providing a nearly blindspot-free perimeter of the house Tony assumed belonged to Sam. 

“If they show up there, we’ll know.”

Two seconds later, Tony’s phone was ringing again. 

“Hello?”

“Tony, hey,” Steve said. “Sorry, I tried to call sooner — ”

“Are you okay?”

“Yes, yes. We’re totally fine. A couple scrapes and bruises, but you gave us enough time to take cover. We owe you one.”

“Where are you?”

“We’re at Sam’s.” 

“Wait, seriously? Are you near a window.”

“Um. Why?”

“Because I want to see that you’re in one piece for myself.”

“Fine. Bathroom window, northwest corner.”

Tony pulled the feed for that camera up on the screen directly in front of him.

In the video, Steve pushed the horizontal blinds aside just enough that he could peek through the corner and wave.

“Where’s the camera anyway?” Steve asked, scanning the area. 

“Top of the light pole across the street.”

Steve made eye contact and smiled. It was a tired, half-smile. But it was still a smile, and it was for Tony.

“Hey Tony.”

“Hey Steve.” Tony wished the image was clearer. He could only see half of Steve, and the footage was more than a little grainy. “You changed.” 

Steve laughed a little, and then Tony was smiling. He loved seeing Steve laugh like that. 

“Yeah. Surprising absolutely no one, the cheap, modern clothes Nat had us in didn’t fare well post-explosion.”

“Well I’m certainly not complaining,” Tony said, teasing a bit. “I’m a big fan of the new-and-improved outfit.”

Steve rolled his eyes and let go of the blinds, disappearing once again. Tony had already seen him smiling, though.

“Hey!” Tony protested. 

“I’m fine, Tony. Really. We both are.”

“And did you learn anything?”

“Yeah. SHIELD is HYDRA.”

“I’m sorry, _what_?”

“SHIELD is HYDRA. At least, part of it. Not sure how much. But… it’s not good.”

“Shit.” 

“Our thoughts exactly,” Steve said, sighing. “Sam made breakfast, so we just ate and talked about our next steps here. You’re… probably not going to like it. But I think it’s a good idea.”

“Great. Put me on speaker, I want to talk to all three of you. And I’ve got Pepper and Bruce here.”

Steve clicked a few buttons and suddenly the sound changed.

“Hey everyone,” Tony said. “It seems like you’ve found yourselves on the wanted lists of some pretty powerful people.” 

“Hey, I had no part in this,” Sam said. “These two showed up on my doorstep looking like they just crawled out of a chimney and asking for help.”

“Well, I appreciate you taking them in. I know they're a handful,” Tony said, hoping Sam could hear the very real gratitude under the joking tone. “So what’s the situation?”

“Well we’re pretty sure Pierce is HYDRA. And Jasper Sitwell, one of the upper-level agents who was on the Lemurian Star with the algorithm on the USB drive,” Steve said. “Oh, and said USB drive was created by a long-dead Swiss scientist who was never supposed to be operating outside a _prison cell_ after World War II, but apparently SHIELD didn’t get that memo.”

“Shit,” Tony said.

“Right,” Nat said. “So our thinking is that we have Sam here help us kidnap Sitwell.”

“I’m sorry, what?” Tony was sure he hadn’t heard that right. 

“You know Sam was Air Force,” Steve said. “He was a pararescue. Has some experience with these… EXO-7 Falcon suits, apparently.”

Tony was already combing through classified Air Force files.

“And your plan is to…? 

“Borrow the last one from Fort Meade. Use it to scare the shit out of Sitwell and get him to talk.”

“Fine,” Tony rolled his eyes. “Let’s say I agree to this and I help you break into a secure military installation. Then what?”

“We can’t decide what to do next until we know what Sitwell has to say.”

“See, that’s why I don’t like this plan. _Way_ too many dependent variables.”

“He’s right,” Natasha agreed. “It’s a terrible plan.”

“Thank you.”

“It’s also the only plan we have,” she added.

“Okay, well why don’t you give me some time to go through SHIELD’s records more clearly. I can look into Pierce and Sitwell now that we have an idea of where to start — ”

“I don’t think there’s enough time for any of that, Tony,” Steve said. “HYDRA is building up to something. They killed Fury for a reason; he got too close. We have to figure out what they’re doing before it’s too late to stop it.”

“This is insane — ”

“Trust me, I know,” Steve said. “Less than 36 hours ago, I thought everyone at SHIELD was on the right side. But I think this is our best play.”

Tony paused.

“How sure are you?”

“Gut feeling?” Tony could envision Steve shrugging. “About 86 percent, give or take.”

“Fine,” Tony said. “ _Fine._ I don’t like it, I want that on the record. But I’ll help. So. Fort Meade?”

“Fort Meade,” Sam confirmed. “It’s behind three guarded gates and a 12-inch steel wall.”

“Well you’ve got a spy, a super soldier, and _me_ so that’s pretty much child’s play. I’ll have the security system malfunctioning by the time you get there. Eta?” 

* * *

The next time Tony’s phone rang, it wasn’t Steve.

“Stark? This is Maria Hill.”

“I’m a little busy — ”

“I know. I need your help. I’m working on the same thing as Steve.”

“What do you want?”

“To take down HYDRA.”

“Talk. Fast.”

“I need you to write code that will disable the Insight Helicarriers’ targeting function so they don’t kill thousands of people as soon as they go live. Can you do that?”

“Of course I can do it, but I need more details.”

“I’m sending them now,” Hill said. “You only have a few hours, Stark.”

* * *

Tony was nearly three-quarters of the way done writing the code Agent Hill had asked for when Tony got the next update about Steve. This time, it wasn’t from Steve directly. Instead, JARVIS pulled up a D.C. NBC affiliate and let Tony, Bruce, and Pepper watch in horror as Steve, Nat, and Sam were arrested by SHIELD on national television.

“Fuck,” Tony said. “Nat’s been shot. And I don’t know what the hell is wrong with Steve, but he looks like he does on his bad days. I’m going after them.”

“Tony, I think it’s more important that you finish what Hill asked for,” Bruce said carefully. “I’m sure Steve and Nat can figure a way out of this. And you know Steve would want you focused on saving — ”

“I know that,” Tony snapped. “Of course I know that. But Steve’s an idiot, so we don’t listen to him.”

“Besides, the soonest you could get there is an hour.” The second part — _if they want Steve and Nat dead, there’s not going to be anything you can do to stop it_ — went unsaid. 

Pepper stepped forward.

“I’m sure they’ll be alright. Hill contacted you, right? That means she probably knows what’s going on in D.C. I bet she’s got them covered.”

“Bruce, see if we can get a trace on the last number Hill called us from.” 

“Already on it.”

Tony stared blankly at the screen. Pepper stepped forward and wrapped an arm around his shoulders. 

“He’s going to be okay, Tony.”

“I’m not… I can’t lose him, Pep. _I can’t_.”

“I know,” Pepper said, her voice steady. “You’re not going to. And you know I’m always right.”

Tony sighed.

“I’ve got Hill traced to some kind of abandoned water processing plant. And I’m pretty sure the only reason I was able to do so was because she let me.”

“Can we get eyes on it?”

“I’m working on it. It’s an old place. Not a lot of cameras.”

“Tony — ”

“Work on repositioning the SI satellites so we can at least get an aerial view of the property.”

“I’ll try it,” Bruce said.

“Tony, your phone is ringing.”

Pepper shook the phone in front of Tony.

“Oh.”

Tony grabbed it from Pepper and took a deep breath. He was so worried this would be Hill calling to tell him Steve was dead, but they’d recovered the body. He couldn’t. He just couldn’t take it. But he had to know.

“What happened?” he said, with no intro.

“Hey Tony,” Steve said.

Tony dropped into the chair Pepper had pulled up behind him. 

“If this experience doesn’t kill _me_ before you get home, I’m going to kill _you_ ,” Tony said. “My heart can’t take the stress, Steve. It can’t.”

“I know. I’m sorry, sweetheart. I really am. Trust me, I didn’t want this.”

“What the hell happened?”

“Hill was in the car they loaded us into. She got us out. Nat’s hurt, but they’re fixing her up. Oh, and Fury’s _not_ dead.” 

“What?”

“Yeah. I know. Also, um, Bucky is the Winter Soldier.”

“ _What?_ ” Tony’s brain went into full-on shutdown mode. Steve wasn’t making any sense.

“Yeah, I know. But, it’s true. I saw him with my own eyes. It’s him.”

There was a long, silent pause.

“Tony?” Steve asked quietly. “You still there?”

“Yep, I’m here,” Tony said. “I’m just… not following you. You said…”

“Bucky is the Winter Soldier,” Steve repeated.

“Bucky Barnes? As in Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes, your best friend?”

“The one and only.”

“Jesus,” Tony said. “How?”

“Zola experimented on him when they captured him during the war,” Steve said. He sounded utterly wrecked. “It’s the only thing I can think of that explains how he survived the fall.” Steve paused for a minute. “I can’t believe I left him there.”

“It’s not your fault, Steve. You couldn’t have known — ”

“He looked right at me, and he didn’t even know me, Tony.” Steve sounded so lost. If nothing else, at least Tony understood why Steve had looked so shaken up when he was being arrested. “I… I can’t even imagine what they did to him.”

“I’m so sorry, Steve.” Tony didn’t really know what more to say. But there were more questions to be asked. “I’m guessing he’s being controlled by HYDRA?”

“Yes. I don’t know how, but it’s definitely them. He shot Fury, and he attacked us when we had Sitwell in the car. There’s no way it’s a coincidence. The Winter Soldier is a HYDRA operative.”

“Okay,” Tony said. “I’ll start building a dossier on him. We’ll get him back, Steve.”

“There’s something else,” Steve started and stopped. “I can’t — I need to tell you in person. But there’s more.”

“Steve…”

“It doesn’t matter for this. Not right now. We’ll talk about it as soon as we’re back in the same state.”

“Lucky for you, I can make that happen. It’ll take me just over an hour, in fact.”

“Not just yet, Tony. We still need you working on the codes for the targeting blades. We need those to take out the Insight Helicarriers.”

“Hill told you about that?”

“She did. Are you close?”

“Very. I need… probably only twenty more minutes now that I know you’re safe.”

“Okay. Well, I shouldn’t keep you.”

“Steve,” Tony said, his voice soft. “Are you okay? Seriously. Be honest with me.”

“Not even a little,” Steve admitted quietly. “But it’s good hearing your voice.”

“Is there anything I can do?”

“Just help me end this so I can come home.”

Tony thought it over for a minute. “Hey, even if everything else that comes of this is complete shit, it does mean you get to move back home early.”

Steve let out a very weak laugh. “I wasn’t even thinking about that, but you’re right. That… helps. A lot. Thank you.”

“Any time,” Tony said, easily. He didn’t want to ask what came next, but he didn’t have a choice. “Do you think you’re going to have to face him?”

“Well, I have no reason to believe my luck is suddenly going to turn around. So yes, probably.”

“Are you ready for that?”

“I don’t see how I could be.”

Fair enough. Tony tried to imagine being in Steve’s situation — tried to think about Rhodey working for an underground terrorist organization and having to go up against him. His brain rejected the thought.

“I know… you’re not going to want to hurt him,” Tony said carefully after a quiet moment. “And I’m not going to ask you to. I know how much he means to you. But I just…” Tony didn’t even know how to finish that sentence. “Just come home to me. Please?”

“As fast as possible,” Steve said fiercely. It sounded like a promise. “I love you.”

“I love you, too. Stay safe.”

“I always do.”

As soon as Tony hung up the phone he finished the targeting blade codes. 

Immediately after that, he called New York Presbyterian and asked to speak to nurse Lisa Hayward. It took some time for them to track her down — she wasn’t actually on a shift at the hospital, it seemed.

“This better be good,” she barked into the phone when he finally got ahold of her. “I haven’t had time to put my feet up in the past 24 hours.”

“Hi, Lisa,” Tony said quickly. “This is Tony Stark. I’m sorry to interrupt your time off, but I… need your help.”

“What happened to Steve?” She was immediately sharp and focused. That was exactly why Tony wanted her help with this.

“Nothing. Yet,” Tony sighed. “But if I know him at all — and I like to think I do — he’s going to need very serious medical attention in less than five hours.”

“Can you get a helicopter to the hospital?”

“Yes.”

“I’ll get together as many people who worked on him last time as I can. We’ll be ready in an hour.”

Tony loved this woman. He was going to buy her a house. Maybe two. One could be on a beach.

“Thank you,” he said, instead.

“Get moving, Stark,” Lisa said before hanging up.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lisa returns!! Probably not under the circumstances everyone hoped, but she was such a popular character in the past that I just had to bring her back ;). 
> 
> I promise I won't leave you all hanging on this chapter for long, but you have the benefit of knowing, more or less, what happens. I'm just going to fix a few things I had problems with before haha. Please let me know what you think!!


	18. Later

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So this chapter is MASSIVE and still takes place in April 2013. Also, I'm sure you see I've decided to write a little... epilogue, shall we say? All I have to say is Happy New Year ;)!

Steve woke up and _everything hurt._

Before he opened his eyes, he tried to place where he was. He heard a couple beeping monitors, a phone ringing outside, and someone’s steady breathing nearby. 

He opened his eyes and immediately regretted it. Even the dimmed lights in the room were too bright. His head hurt. 

Logically, he knew that was probably because Bucky had fractured his skull. But he’d rather blame the lights.

He was actually genuinely surprised to be alive. He’d been pretty sure he was going to die as he was falling, and he’d hated himself for leaving Tony —

_Tony._

Tony had been on HYRDA’s list and Steve _needed_ to know he was alive. Luckily, Steve didn’t need to go further than opening his eyes and turning his head to find him. Steve relaxed back into his pillow. _Thank God,_ he thought, examining Tony as he slept uncomfortably in a chair next to Steve’s bed. Even in sleep, Tony looked tired and stressed, but he was otherwise unharmed and that was the best thing Steve had seen in a while.

He figured he should probably let Tony know he was conscious. 

Moving his hand helped him realize that Tony was holding it. That worked.

He moved more substantially and squeezed Tony’s hand in an attempt to wake him. Tony shot up in an instant, his back ramrod straight and his wide eyes scanning Steve’s face.

“Hey,” Steve said. His voice was hoarser than he was prepared for. He thought about trying for a smile, but he was pretty sure he’d split his lip or his cheek by doing do so. Still, he curled the corner of his mouth up anyway.

“Oh my god,” Tony breathed squeezing Steve’s hand tighter. He smiled, but it was flimsy. “Welcome back.”

“Thanks,” Steve said.

“How do you feel?”

“Uh.” Steve hesitated. “I’ve been better.”

“No kidding?” Tony asked, his tone acerbic. “I never would have guessed. What with the gunshots and the stab wound and falling several hundred feet.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said. He meant it. 

Tony sighed. He squeezed Steve’s hand again.

“We’ll talk about it later. Right now you need to focus on healing.” Tony ran his thumb along Steve’s wrist soothingly. “Do you need anything? Water? Pain meds?”

“I wouldn’t say no to either,” Steve said. Tony grabbed the remote on Steve’s bed and called the nurse. He also held up a cup with a straw poking out of it. Steve took a careful sip. “What exactly is the damage?” he asked, his voice a little stronger because of the water.

“You were shot four times. Stabbed once. Your skull is fractured around your right eye socket. You’re lucky your jaw isn’t broken — but you do have stitches. Oh and also your _neck was broken_.”

Steve winced. He knew something hadn’t sounded right when Bucky hit him in the back of the neck with the shield, so that made sense. Not that he was about to tell Tony that. 

“So it’s not great,” Tony finished. “But you’re doing better. You’ve been out for a couple of days. They uh, weren’t entirely sure when or, um, _if_ you’d wake up, but you’re awake now so…”

“I’m so sorry, Tony.”

Tony looked at him, and there were tears in his eyes. Steve didn’t know if they were from relief or frustration.

“You’re alive,” Tony said. “That’s all that matters now.”

Steve wished that were true.

“It’s not,” Steve said. Every word hurt, and not because just about every part of him was broken. “I have to tell you — ”

“Steve, not now.” Tony shook his head. “We’ll talk about everything. We will. There’s an extraordinarily long list of things we need to discuss. But whatever it is can wait a few days, okay?” When Steve stayed silent Tony smiled. “Besides, you’re not in any condition to go a few rounds with me right now.”

“You’re right,” Steve said, half-smiling again. “But you’re going to see some things. I know Nat dumped SHIELD’s data — ”

“I’m not looking at any of that right now. Nat said it was part of what you wanted to tell me yourself, so I’m not touching it.”

“Oh.” Steve made a mental note to thank her for that. He didn’t even know what to say to Tony. He knew how much Tony hated not knowing things, especially when the rest of the world knew what was going on. The fact that he was patiently waiting on Steve’s explanation meant more than it would if it were anyone else. He settled on, “I love you,” even though it wasn’t enough. He would never have the words to properly explain what Tony meant to him.

Tony smiled, his eyes lighting up at the words the way they always did. 

“I love you too, Steve,” Tony said. “So please, for my sake, just take the next week or so off.”

“I’ll do my best,” Steve said, teasing a little.

Tony glared at him. A nurse walked in.

“He’s awake, in pain, and being stupid,” Tony said, still glaring at his boyfriend. “Pump him full of drugs.”

“Maybe not full of — ”

“Will do.” The nurse cut Steve off, and he realized he knew that voice. He turned his head away from Tony, slowly.

“Lisa?”

“That’s me,” she said, winking at Steve. “What’s hurting most right now?” 

“My head,” Steve said. “What are you doing here?”

“Your boyfriend flew me in,” Lisa said, busying herself with adjusting one of the IV bags hanging from a pole connected to the bed. “Along with most of your hospital staff from last time.” 

Steve raised his eyebrows and looked at Tony.

“Don’t give me that look, Rogers. It took a while to get your last medical team up to speed on the intricacies of the way your body works. I wasn’t about to play that game again if I didn’t have to. Lisa helped me round them up and put them on a helicopter here as soon as I understood what was going down in D.C. I had this funny feeling you were going to end up here.” He gave Steve a reprimanding look.

“You’re lucky he did,” Lisa chimed in. “There wouldn’t have been time to get someone else informed. By the time they found you on the riverbank it had been more than an hour. We had to rush you right into surgery. It wasn’t a quick fix.”

“Is there going to be any lasting damage?”

“Not that we can tell,” Lisa said. “Somehow. One of the bullets perforated your large _and_ small intestines. Another was about a centimeter off from shattering your femur. The one that went through your shoulder did a number on the bone and muscle, which was only exacerbated by the _stab wound._ ”

“One was only a graze,” Steve said weakly. Memories of the fight were coming back to him slowly.

Tony and Lisa stared at him with nearly identical _‘are you kidding me?’_ expressions.

“Not to mention you fell into a horrendously polluted river that _healthy_ people are told not to swim in while you were riddled with open wounds.” Lisa sounded more and more like she was criticizing his decision making rather than reminding him what happened. “With anyone else, we’d just be waiting for you to develop some horrible infection.” She shook her head. “But it’s you. I’m not even sure if it’s the serum or sheer stubbornness that’s keeping you alive at this point.”

“If you figure it out, let me know,” Tony said, sounding every bit as tired as Steve knew he was. 

“Really, Captain Rogers,” Lisa said, looking at him from the door to his room with her hands on her hips. “I love you two, but I hate meeting like this. Please stop almost dying.”

“I’ll do my best.”

“Also, I’m hitting you with the strong stuff. You should be able to — and definitely _should_ — sleep soon.”

“Thank you, Lisa,” Tony said. She left.

Steve was grateful he answered for them. He could already tell the drugs were starting to work and he was getting drowsy.

Steve reached around blindly until Tony took his hand. 

“Sleep,” Tony said. Steve listened. 

* * *

Steve’s heart rate skyrocketed about sixteen hours later. Tony jumped up from his seat frantically checked his vitals on the monitor. At this point, he was an expert at reading them. Nothing but Steve’s heart rate — which had gone from a steady 35 bpm to 112 bpm in the span of sixteen seconds — had changed.

Tony examined Steve closely. There didn’t seem to be much of a change in his physical condition, but Steve was beginning to shiver, his brow furrowed and his jaw clenched tight enough that it looked painful. 

_Nightmare then,_ Tony thought, sadly. Even in the hospital, Steve wasn’t guaranteed a moment of uninterrupted rest. Tony should have expected it.

The nightmares and anxiety attacks had gotten worse the last time Steve nearly died. After a few weeks of JARVIS interrupting Tony’s work or sleep to request assistance on Captain Rogers’ behalf, Steve had whispered an admission to Tony in the dead of night: He was afraid of “dying” again and waking up in an entirely new century. _“I can’t lose everyone again,”_ he’d said, sounding absolutely wrecked. _“I can’t lose you, Tony.”_

And that had been _before_ they were anything more than friends. 

With that thought in mind, Tony grabbed Steve’s hand and laced their fingers together tightly. He didn’t think Steve would surface from the nightmare for a bit, and it was difficult and unwise to try to wake him. He had to wait it out. 

It took about ten minutes, and every second made Tony feel worse. Eventually, though, Steve’s eyes shot open and he gasped for breath. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” Tony said, his voice soft. Steve’s eyes darted to him immediately. “It’s just me. You had a nightmare, I think. But you’re safe. You’re in the hospital recovering. You’re safe.”

He rubbed his thumb along the back of Steve’s hand, aiming for reassuring.

“Why is it so cold in here?” Steve asked, still tense. 

“Uh, well, probably because you naturally run very warm. They’re keeping the temperature low to keep you comfortable.” Tony knew this was the case because he’d been sitting in the room for days wearing a jacket and still feeling cold.

“Well, I’m freezing.”

“I could probably get you another blanket — ” Tony said, already getting up. He knew Steve was just reacting to the nightmare, but maybe a blanket would help. It certainly couldn’t hurt. The odds of Steve _actually_ being cold were slim to none. Tony was the one who was always cold — and sometimes he wasn’t even that cold, he just wanted an excuse to cuddle up next to Steve. “Why don’t I lie down with you for a bit?” 

Steve blinked, the cold apparently forgotten.

“Um. Can you do that? Won’t the doctors or… someone get mad?”

Tony was already taking off his shoes and pulling off his jacket. 

“Screw ‘em,” he said. “It’s not going to hurt you at this point.” 

Tony was… about 97% sure that was true. He was sure enough to chance it in the hopes that Steve could get some more sleep. That was helping the most with his healing anyway.

“Okay,” Steve said finally. He sounded more fragile than Tony had ever heard him, which just made Tony want to stay beside him and protect him from anything that might try to do him harm. So that’s exactly what he did.

He stuck to Steve’s right side because he’d rather not aggravate the wound from the bullet Steve had taken to his left leg. Steve’s right shoulder was a little fucked up from being stabbed, but Tony carefully found space for himself on the narrow hospital bed in a way that wouldn’t cause Steve any pain. 

Tony knew that his body was going to absolutely _despise_ him for this maneuver later on, but as Steve slowly relaxed back into sleep beside him, Tony couldn’t bring himself to care. 

* * *

Lisa was entirely unsurprised to find Tony Stark wedged onto the bed beside Captain Rogers when she walked into the room to check pain medication levels at 12:03 a.m.

The two made quite a pair. Even in sleep, they complemented one another. She’d interacted with them both individually on rare occasions, but she knew them well enough together to know that they were at their best in each other’s presence.

She watched them for a moment, trying to ascertain whether or not Captain Rogers needed something more for pain management. In the end, she decided that he seemed stable and relaxed and held off. At the moment, he seemed to have everything he needed. 

* * *

Steve was in the hospital for a week. By the time he left, he was — amazingly — not even limping. His leg was almost entirely healed, and his neck was good as new. His broken skull was close to healing, but he still had wicked headaches from the break and the concussion. They’d removed the stitches from his face. His shoulder was still messed up, and they had his arm in a sling to keep him from exacerbating that problem. The disaster that was his abdomen was the farthest from healed, and he was under strict orders not to do much more than lay around for the next few days.

Tony’s promise not to let Steve do _anything_ strenuous was the only reason the doctor agreed to discharge him. 

Steve tried to convince Tony there were things he needed to deal with in D.C., but Tony wasn’t having it. He’d already shipped Steve’s things back home and donated all the furniture Steve said he didn’t want or need to a local charity. He knew Natasha was going to talk to Steve at home about something. Sam had been in and out of the hospital to visit Steve, and he understood that Steve was going home — _home_ home.

There was nothing left for Steve to deal with in D.C. Tony made sure of it. Steve was relieved, even if he pretended to be bothered by Tony’s fussing. So they flew home in Tony’s private jet.

When they arrived, Tony finally felt like he could breathe again. Steve was _home._ He was back, and he wasn’t leaving any time soon. They went straight to their room.

“Tony,” Steve said as he sat down next to Tony on their bed. “We should probably talk about everything.”

Tony sighed. He didn’t want to, but Steve was right. It was the mature, adult thing to do. Damn it.

“Probably,” Tony said. He clasped his hands together between his legs. His fidgeting betrayed his nervousness.

“I’ll start,” Steve said. 

Tony raised his eyebrows skeptically and started to ask if Steve even remembered the first thing on the list of what they needed to talk about. He didn’t come remotely close to getting the question out, though. Without warning — and much faster than someone in his condition should have been able to manage — Steve pulled Tony into a fierce kiss.

He only had the use of his left arm, but Steve was creative. Somehow he maneuvered Tony closer. Unsurprisingly, Tony was much more aware of Steve’s injuries than Steve himself. As a result, Tony did his best to keep his hands away from anywhere that might cause Steve pain. Meanwhile, Steve tugged gently on Tony’s hair to get a better angle and deepen the kiss. Tony moaned, and Steve only avoided smiling smugly because he was trying to prove a _point_ here.

Tony wrapped an arm around Steve’s neck, and carefully avoided putting any kind of pressure on Steve’s bad shoulder. Steve trailed his hand down Tony’s back and slipped it up under the hem of his shirt. Tony shivered at the contact.

Steve finally pulled back. He kissed Tony’s lips softly once more, kissed his cheek, and smiled wickedly.

“There’s a difference between me being kissed and me kissing someone,” Steve said definitively. “Can we agree on that?”

“Uh,” Tony said. He was _very_ out of it. Steve’s smile grew. “Sure?”

“Perfect.” Steve leaned out of Tony’s space just a little to let the man’s brain come back online. “So can we skip the part of this discussion where we rehash what _didn’t_ happen between Nat and me?”

Tony’s eyes glinted with recognition. “That was evil,” he said without any heat. “But yes, fine.” Tony rolled his eyes. “You know I wasn’t ever actually concerned about that anyway.”

Steve kissed him again.

“I know,” Steve said, smiling. “Doesn’t change the fact that I wanted to do that anyway.”

“Smooth,” Tony said, chuckling. “I’ve missed you.”

“I’ve missed you too. And I’m sorry about everything.”

“Skip the generalized apologies,” Tony said, impatient now. “There are specifics to be discussed.” 

Steve sighed. “You’re right, of course. Where do you want to start?”

“Let’s go chronologically, just for the hell of it. Jumping through reinforced glass walls? Falling forty stories through a fucking skylight? Was there _any_ plan?”

“There was a… loose structure of a plan,” Steve said, poorly defending himself. “I had two options. Take on anywhere between ten and fifteen HYDRA-SHIELD agents or jump. It felt like the lesser of two evils.”

“You could have splattered yourself all over the tiled floor in SHIELD’s lobby!”

“I could have, but I had the shield. I knew it would absorb the impact.”

“Don’t bullshit me, Steve. I know that hurt. I saw the footage.”

“I’m fine,” Steve said, but Tony continued to glare at him. “It knocked the wind out of me. It might have… _possibly_ caused a few very minor hairline fractures. But they’re well-past healed now.”

“Jesus Steve.”

“Sweetheart, I’m okay.”

“You broke your hip, didn’t you?” Tony said, thinking back to the video footage and the way Steve had stumbled forward after finally getting to his feet. “And probably your left leg.”

Steve shrugged. Tony glared at him. Steve sighed.

“Yes, I think so,” Steve said finally. “I didn’t exactly have time to get it checked out. It was all minor. My leg smacked into the beam in the ceiling when I fell, and the other fracture was just from hitting the ground.”

“You’re going to be the death of me,” Tony said. He ran his hand through his hair. “I swear.”

Steve reached over and took one of Tony’s hands. Stubbornly, Tony kept his fingers stiff and locked together. Steve wasn’t having it. He traced a pattern on the back of Tony’s hand and waited. 

“I wasn’t trying to hurt myself,” Steve said. “And I absolutely wasn’t trying to cause you stress. It was just a very shitty situation, and I imagine it’s unlikely to happen again.” 

Tony finally looked up from where Steve was writing letters on the back of his hand. He was smiling at Steve a little now. Tony relaxed his hand and twisted it around to interlock his fingers with Steve’s.

“You’re the love of my life, too, you big dope,” Tony said, rolling his eyes. “But that doesn’t mean you’re off the hook for this.”

“You got that?” Steve squeezed Tony’s hand. He hadn’t been sure Tony would pick up on what he was writing. “Impressive.”

“Well, I am a genius.” 

“And I’m a super-soldier. That means I can push the limits on what a person can live through. So you shouldn’t worry about little things like forty-story falls.”

“Please do not _ever_ call a forty-story fall something ‘little’ again,” Tony said, the pitch of his voice rising in strange ways.

“Sorry, sorry,” Steve mumbled, squeezing Tony’s hand. “I really am sorry. I’ll be more careful.” 

Tony glared at him a minute little longer before he sighed. “Fine.” 

Steve smiled just a little.

“Now, what’s this thing you need to talk to me about?”

Steve’s expression fell from tentatively happy to dismayed in the seconds it took Tony to get the words out of his mouth.

“Woah, hey,” Tony put his free hand on Steve’s face — the left side, so he didn’t hurt him. “What’s this about?”

Steve frowned, the deep crease appearing between his brows that meant he was trying to solve an unsolvable problem. 

“Honey, unless you found time to cheat on me when you were between battles in D.C. there’s no reason for you to look so torn up about this.”

Steve’s glare turned sharp and heated. That was slightly better than the conflicted guilt from a few moments prior. 

“Tony, you know I would _never._ ”

“I know that,” Tony ran his fingers through Steve’s hair soothingly. “Of course I know that. But you looked guilty about something, so I picked the most ridiculous thing.”

Steve rolled his eyes. A moment later he took a deep breath and set his jaw. Steve was going to tell him.

Tony didn’t know what he was preparing himself for, but he was going to do his best to hang on to the fact that Steve was here. Steve was alive. That was all that mattered. 

“Do you remember what I told you about when Nat and I were underground at Camp Leigh? How we found computer-Zola?”

“Sure.”

“He said HYDRA has been using the Wint— _using_ _Bucky_ to shape history. To make things the way HYDRA wanted it. To create chaos and disorder.”

Tony looked more curious than concerned now. That was how Steve knew he wasn’t explaining it right.

“Okay,” Tony nodded. “Makes sense. Use an elite, brainwashed assassin to take out potential threats, create instability. Straight out of the handbook for evil organizations.”

“Right,” Steve said, nodding. “You know they sent him after Fury.”

Tony nodded. “But I’m guessing there’s something I don’t know?”

“There is,” Steve confirmed. “Zola implied that Bucky, the Winter Soldier, was — ” Steve’s sentence broke off abruptly. He sounded wrecked. Tony was growing more alarmed by the second. Steve sucked in a deep breath and the next words escaped him just above a whisper. “Zola said the Winter Soldier was involved in your parents’ deaths.”

Tony just… stared at him, then quickly shifted so he was staring at the floor. Steve waited. And waited. 

But even Steve couldn’t wait forever.

“Tony?” Steve said, after what he estimated was about three solid minutes. “Is there anything I can do to help? Or… something you want to say?”

Tony shook his head slowly before finally looking Steve in the eye again.

“What am I supposed to say, Steve?” Tony just sounded… lost. “Your best friend who just came back from the dead _murdered_ my parents. What am I supposed to do with that?” Something in Tony’s voice snapped and gave way to anger. “What the _hell_ am I meant to do with that?”

Steve wanted to have an answer for him, to be able to make things better. He wanted to be able to say that Bucky had been brainwashed, that he hadn’t had a choice. But even though it was true, it wasn’t going to make this hurt Tony any less.

“I don’t know,” Steve said, already bracing to accept the brunt of Tony’s anger. “I’m sorry. I don’t… I don’t think there’s any set way you’re supposed to respond. I just didn’t want to keep it from you. You deserved to know.”

“Oh, I’m relieved you decided _not_ to lie to me,” Tony snapped. “We know from experience how well I respond when you keep things from me.” He stopped, and Steve saw that Tony was on the verge of tears.

“Tony —” Steve’s voice broke on the word. Steve didn’t even know what he was going to say. He wanted to reach out for Tony, but he wasn’t sure his touch would be welcome. _That_ was a new and intensely unpleasant kind of wrongness between them. “Tony,” Steve started again, still at a loss. He was inordinately relieved when Tony cut him off.

“Just tell me the rest of it,” Tony said. His tone had crumbled from angry to strangely resigned. 

“Um.” Steve looked at Tony, confused. He raised an eyebrow. Tony scowled at him. “The rest of what?” He was genuinely uncertain. He’d already told Tony the part he’d been dreading.

“The rest of the story. The part that explains how things were going fine with disabling the helicarriers until, suddenly, they weren’t. And next thing we know you’re half-dead on the riverbank.”

“Why would you want to know — ?” 

“It was him, right?” Tony asked. He waved his hand up and down Steve’s body in an aggressive, jerky motion. “All this? He’s the one that beat the shit out of you?”

“Yes, but — ”

“But what?” Tony shouted, shoving up off the bed and beginning to pace back and forth in front of Steve. “He killed my parents. He killed my _mom._ Steve, he almost _killed you_!” Tony’s voice was strangled.

“Bucky wasn’t going to kill me, Tony. He wasn’t — when we fought, it wasn’t him. Bucky recognized me when we fought on the street. And he recognized me on the helicarrier, eventually. He’s… Natasha told me he pulled me out of the water. He’s the only one who could have. He remembered me, at least a little.”

“Are you _fucking_ kidding me?” Tony said, absolutely incredulous. He was still pacing. “Are you actually telling me that your _friend_ who shot you four times, stabbed you, broke your neck, and bashed your _fucking_ skull in remembers you?”

“Yes,” Steve said, his voice a bit sharper than intended. “I don’t want to make excuses for what he’s done. But I won’t lie to you either. I know he knew me.”

“Why am I supposed to believe that?”

“Because I’m here, next to you, still breathing,” Steve said, essentially pleading with Tony. “He’s the best assassin the world’s ever seen. I know you’ve seen his file. If he wanted me dead, I’d be dead. I wasn’t — ” Steve cut himself off, but it was too late. Tony had always been very good at hearing what Steve avoided saying. That usually worked in their favor. Not today.

“What?” Tony said, whipping around to face Steve, fast like a snake strike. “You weren’t _what_ Steve?” 

It was a challenge. Steve knew one when he heard it.

“I wasn’t trying to stop him,” Steve said, his voice soft and honest. He didn’t think Tony was going to forgive him for this.

“You — ” Tony shuddered and took two steps back. Steve thought he saw the sheen of tear tracks on Tony’s cheek. Tony looked so betrayed and, worse, heartbroken. “You were just going to _let_ him kill you?”

Steve didn’t know what to say to that. There wasn’t really anything he _could_ say to defend his choices. He knew how crazy it sounded.

Tony backed farther away from him. 

“Tony,” Steve said, starting to stand. 

“No,” Tony put his hands out, warning Steve back. “Don’t you dare get out of that bed. You’re supposed to rest. I have to — I have to _not_ be here right now. I need to go…” _blow shit up._

“Tony, you don’t have to leave. I can go sleep in my old room, and you can stay here.”

“No. I’m going down to the workshop.” Tony shook his head. His gaze was fixed on the wall behind Steve’s head like he wasn’t even capable of looking Steve in the eye anymore. “And you’re going to stay here. I need some space.”

Steve watched him from his spot on the bed.

“Okay,” Steve said finally. “I won’t crowd you or try to make things difficult. But I’m going to check in on you. At least through JARVIS, if you don’t want to see me.”

Tony still wasn’t looking at him. 

“That’s fine,” Tony said waving his hand dismissively. He was obviously in a hurry to end this conversation. “Just… I need some time. Please, rest.”

“Please be safe, Tony.” Steve hadn’t sent him off to the workshop with that warning in a long time. 

Tony nodded, but he was already walking away.

When the door shut behind him, Steve dropped back onto their big, empty mattress. 

* * *

Steve gave Tony a few hours before he asked JARVIS for an update on Tony’s status. JARVIS dutifully informed Steve that Tony was working, but did not seem otherwise distressed.

“JARVIS, you know Tony better than most people,” Steve said, carefully. “Is he actually okay?”

“It has taken him nearly three times as long as usual to make fairly standard repairs to the suit,” JARVIS said knowing Steve could interpret that as the answer it was. 

“Has he… hurt himself?”

“Not intentionally. There was a small mishap with a blowtorch, but the injury was minor and has been taken care of.”

Steve winced, but he couldn’t exactly bust into the workshop on the pretense of a minor burn. Tony had given himself worse injuries when he was completely focused and not even the least bit emotionally distressed.

“If something changes — ”

“You’ll be the first to know, Captain Rogers.”

It was reassuring, Steve thought, that Tony’s AI wasn’t giving him the cold shoulder. Maybe it meant he’d done the right thing by telling Tony, even if it had landed them here.

“Hey, JARVIS?” Steve said, not really expecting much.

“Yes, sir?”

“Do you think we'll be okay?”

JARVIS was silent for so long Steve thought he wouldn’t reply at all. When he did, it wasn’t exactly what Steve expected but it wasn’t necessarily bad either.

“Master Stark cares about you a great deal Captain Rogers. He does not respond well to the thought of losing you, but he certainly does not want to be the _reason_ he loses you. Give him time.” 

* * *

Tony surprised the hell out of him by coming up to their room around 3 a.m.

Steve was awake, of course, but he remained still in the darkness. JARVIS had turned the lights down sometime around midnight. Tony paused in the doorway of the dimly lit hall. 

“I’m awake,” Steve said, his voice soft.

Tony visibly relaxed and shuffled into the room. Steve started to move, but Tony quickly stopped him. 

“Don’t get up,” he said. He sounded tired and maybe a little sad but not angry. That was… probably progress?

Steve watched, his eyes long-adjusted to the darkness, as Tony walked over to his side of the bed, used his hands to find the surface in the darkness, and then sank down onto the mattress. For a second, it seemed like Tony was frozen, trying to decide exactly what he wanted to do. 

He settled for sighing — the sort of sigh that comes from bone-deep exhaustion — and curling up next to Steve. Steve was surprised, but he just shifted to better accommodate Tony beside him. Normally, Tony would rest his head on Steve’s shoulder but that was out of the question at the moment, given his injuries. 

They laid together in silence for a few minutes before Steve decided to speak. Tony was one step ahead of him, though. 

“Tomorrow, okay?” Tony whispered. “I just want to be close to you right now.”

Steve’s chest got a little tight at those words because that certainly sounded like the sort of thing you might say to someone you were going to break up with. But, as if he could read Steve’s mind, Tony turned his head and pressed a kiss to Steve’s jawline. Steve suspected that was because Tony deemed it one of the only ‘unbroken’ parts of Steve’s face. 

“I love you,” Tony said. “So much it hurts sometimes.”

Steve could hear the pain in his voice.

“I love you, too,” Steve said, his voice quiet but firm. “I’m so sorry.”

Tony didn’t reply. He didn’t really need to. 

It took about an hour, but eventually Tony fell asleep. With Tony’s even breathing in earshot, Steve followed soon after.  

* * *

Steve woke up before Tony, but not by much. He could only tell because of the slight change in Tony’s breathing when he finally drifted into consciousness.

Almost imperceptibly, Tony pressed closer to Steve. 

“Why are you awake?” Tony mumbled, yawning. 

“It’s 10:30,” Steve countered. “Why are you?”

“Yeah, but you were up until after 4.”

“So were you.”

Tony chuckled a little. “Fair enough.” He sat up slowly and Steve followed suit, a bit more gingerly. “I desperately need a shower, but then we can talk?”

“Sounds good to me,” Steve agreed. He’d done next to nothing last night, so showering wasn’t a necessity yet, and it was more of a hassle than it was worth with all the bandages. “I’ll get dressed and go get us some coffee.”

“Perfect,” Tony said, smiling just a little. 

* * *

Just about twenty minutes later, Tony emerged from the bathroom wearing a pair of old, tattered jeans and a soft cotton t-shirt. He was using a towel to dry his hair, and it looked like the shower had been refreshing at least.

“Coffee’s on your night table,” Steve said, tipping his chin at the still-steaming cup. 

“You are truly the best,” Tony said, grinning for real this time. “Thanks.”

“Any time,” Steve said with a small answering smile of his own. 

“So I talked to Pepper,” Tony said after a moment’s hesitation and a drink of hot coffee. “Sorry, I know this is all sensitive information, but — ”

“Tony, you don’t have to apologize for talking to Pepper about this. She’s one of your closest friends. I trust her with anything you trust her with. I’m glad you had someone to talk to.”

“Me too,” Tony said. “And she made a good point. Helped me see where you’re coming from in all of this.”

“Yeah?” Pepper was great for a number of reasons, and Steve was glad she was in Tony’s life, but he was having a hard time seeing what her role would be in this particular situation.

“Yes. She… well, this might not make much sense without the explanation, so stay with me. But she asked what I would want you to do if we’d found out Rhodey killed the Winter Soldier. And then, you know, we found out Barnes _was_ the Winter Soldier.”

Steve thought about it for a minute. It was actually plausible. Colonel Rhodes would have had every reason to be tasked with taking down the Winter Soldier if the U.S. government had actually accepted his existence. Steve couldn’t imagine the grief that would have caused, and he didn’t really want to.

“It could easily have happened,” Tony said, echoing Steve’s own thoughts. “Rhodey would have been following orders, but he wouldn’t have known he was murdering one of his childhood heroes and your best friend. It would have hurt everyone involved, but it wouldn’t really have been anyone’s fault.

“This isn’t exactly the same. Barnes… based on what you’ve told me, he didn’t _have_ a choice about following orders. And if he didn’t remember _you,_ there’s absolutely no way he would have remembered my father even if they were friends during the war. It… I _know_ it wasn’t his fault. I know that.” Tony paused and took a deep breath. “I’m sorry I reacted so badly yesterday.”

Steve was dumbfounded. “You — _you’re_ sorry? What on earth do you have to be sorry about? You don’t need to apologize to me.”

“Well, I probably shouldn’t have left mid-conversation.”

“I think that’s understandable given the circumstances. I’m sorry. This is my fault, at least partially.”

“No it isn’t,” Tony said, rolling his eyes. “You’re not in control of HYDRA or even Barnes for that matter. And don’t say you should have looked for him because you had no way of knowing he was alive and we all know that. It’s just an unfortunate situation.”

Steve looked at Tony like he was unsure what to say, probably because he was. Tony, getting back to his normal self, decided to take the opportunity to fill the silence.

“So I went through all the stuff from the SHIELD dump last night, plus I’d already started putting together as much as I could to find him after we found out who he was. I have an idea of where we can start looking — ”

“Wait, what?” Steve blurted, confused.

“I told you we were going to find him,” Tony said, looking at Steve as if he were the one that wasn’t making any sense. “You… still want to find him. Right?”

“Tony, I’m not… I’m not asking you for this.” Steve took Tony’s hands in his carefully. “I’m certainly not asking you to help me _find him._ I just… I need to help him if I can, and I didn’t want to keep this from you. You deserved to know what happened.”

“I know,” Tony said seriously, squeezing Steve’s hands and smiling a little though it was tinged with sadness. “I appreciate that. I’m glad you told me so that I could think it over when I had all the facts. Don’t get me wrong, I was hurt and angry and a bunch of other shitty emotions. But… hell, Steve, he and I aren’t that different. It’s not the same, but I didn’t ask for this.” Tony tapped at the arc reactor in his chest. “I’m guessing Bucky didn’t ask for a Soviet-era metal arm. He was taken by a group of Nazi mad scientists. I was taken by a group of Ten Rings terrorists.

“I got out, but only because they thought the weapons I could create would be more deadly than any weapon they could turn me into. I’m sorry Bucky wasn’t so lucky.” Tony sighed softly. “But that means he’s here now, and I’m in the position to help get him back.”

“I’m not expecting you to forgive him, Tony,” Steve said after a moment of silence.

“I know. I’m not saying I have.” Tony paused thoughtfully. “I can’t tell you what I’d do if he walked into the tower right now. I’m not saying we’ll ever be friends. But if I were face-to-face with a child whose parents had been murdered by my weapons…” Tony shrugged helplessly, hoping he was making sense. “I think the least I can do is try to cut Barnes some slack. He didn’t have a choice.”

Steve had no idea what to say. He’d prepared for a lot of possibilities, but not this. Not anything close to this. 

“Tony…” _I’m not going to leave you if you don’t forgive Bucky. You don’t have to choose between me and your parents._ “At most, all I’d ask is that you don’t try to stop me from helping him. But even if you did, I’d understand why you were.”

“I know,” Tony said. “I know that. But if Rhodey had killed Barnes I would have wanted you to at least try to understand. So I can be civil. And I’m in a position to help you find him safely, so I will. We’re in this together, Steve. He’s important to you, so he’s important to me.”

“Sweetheart, your mom was important to you. They were your parents, they mattered. You wouldn’t be here without them. They’re important to me, too.”

“My parents have been dead a long time. It hurts knowing they died at the hands of a Nazi science force we were supposed to have wiped out during World War II. I’m always going to miss my mom, and my dad was an asshole but he was still my dad so yeah, this sucks. But it’s not like they’re dying all over again. I just… have all the information now.” 

Steve looked at Tony closely, searching for any hint that he was swallowing down what he wanted to please Steve. He didn’t find it. 

Something — relief, Steve thought — shot through him, almost overpowering in its strength. He felt the tension draining from his shoulders as he realized Tony really meant the things he was saying, even if Steve couldn’t fully understand how he could be saying it.

Tony’s expression slipped from nervous to relaxed at the same time. It was like they’d both been wondering if they were passing this unconventional test of their relationship.

“We’re going to be fine, right?” Steve said just to confirm. 

“Yeah,” Tony said, smiling a little. “We’re going to be fine. We’re going to get him back. You’ll see,” Tony said, his words ringing like a promise. “You’re going to get him back.”

“You seem awful sure about that.” 

Tony shifted closer to him on the bed and wrapped his arms around Steve. 

“I am sure. It’s you and me,” Tony said. “He’s your best friend. He remembers you. Or, at least part of him does. And I’m pretty sure I owe him one or, you know, a dozen — he kept you alive all those years you were growing up and getting into trouble, after all. So. We get him back, and we show those HYDRA fuck-ups exactly where they can shove it.” 

Steve chuckled and moved so he could cup Tony’s face in his hand.

“You’re sure you’re okay with this?”

Tony nodded.

“I love you.” He ran his thumb along Tony’s cheekbone, smiling a little. “So, we’re doing this. Together.”

“Together,” Tony confirmed. “And I love you, too. Obviously.”

Steve laughed, and Tony joined in a heartbeat later.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So, what do you think? I struggled hardcore to get that uber-important conversation right, and I'm still not sure I got there. That's why it took so long, but I figure it would be almost impossible to do worse than Civil War so... Hopefully, you all agree lol. Let me know what you think! 
> 
> The next chapter will be another little time jump, but I hope you'll all like it :). Thank you so much for sticking with me all this time. You're the best readers ever!


	19. May 29, 2014

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm SO sorry for the wait. So sorry. I moved to Europe and back in the past five months if that gets me any sympathy whatsoever. But the ending I promised is finally here. I hope it was worth the wait, or simply that you've enjoyed the story if you've just joined me and read this monster of a fic :).
> 
> Also, if you already know the meaning behind the chapter title I applaud you ;).

Tony woke up on the couch a few feet from Natasha. That had been happening more and more often lately. With Steve gone, Tony crashed on the couch far more frequently than he actually made it to his glaringly-empty bed, and he found Natasha there when he woke up sometimes. Tony was about sixty percent convinced Steve had asked Nat to keep an eye on him, but the other forty percent of him thought maybe Natasha was doing it all on her own. 

“Morning sleepy head,” she said, with a soft, sleepy smile. “You okay?”

Tony thought about it a moment because he knew she meant the question seriously rather than as a passing courtesy. _Was_ he okay? He’d slept last night which was a plus, even if it was on the couch. He’d heard from Steve yesterday _and_ the day before, and knowing Steve was safe always made Tony feel better. But he couldn’t deny that a part of him — a large part — missed Steve terribly. 

“Yeah, I’m good,” he said, finally. It was honest. Missing Steve wasn’t anything new, and it wasn’t anything he couldn’t handle. Besides, he was pretty sure he was going to hear from Steve today again, anyway. 

“Any word from Steve?” Nat asked, keen as ever.

Tony patted around the couch for his phone until he found it. A quick glance at the notifications gave him his answer.

“Not yet,” Tony said with a shake of his head. “They were closing in on Bucky’s last-known location as of 6 p.m. our time, yesterday. For all I know, they could’ve caught up with him by now.”

Over the course of Steve’s month-and-a-half search for his friend, Tony started referring to him as Bucky instead of Barnes, even in his own head. Steve spent so much time talking about Bucky with that patented, Steve-brand fondness that it was more trouble than it was worth for Tony to try to maintain emotional distance from the man in his mind. Yes, it stung knowing that an assassin had killed his parents, especially after he’d harbored so much anger toward his father for crashing the car, killing his mother, and _leaving him alone._ But the more time passed, the more Tony accepted it and understood that it couldn’t be undone.

“How’s that feel?” Nat asked, breaking through his thoughts. 

“That they’re close?” Tony asked. “Good. It means Steve gets to come home, and I’ll always want that sooner rather than later.”

“You aren’t worried things will be… weird with Barnes here?”

“Are you?” Tony shot back, smirking a little. He knew a little of the Winter Soldier’s history with the Widows — enough to know why Natasha might be less than thrilled about the new addition.

“Touché.” She shrugged and stretched her legs out on the couch to poke her toes into Tony’s thigh. “Seriously, though,” she prodded. “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I think I’ve more or less gotten past the part where he killed my parents,” Tony admitted after a pause. “As weird as that sounds.”

“But something else is bothering you?”

Tony sighed. “I mean — okay, I fully understand how selfish this sounds, but I’m not used to _not_ being Steve’s…” He didn’t even know how to finish that sentence. Steve’s top priority? Steve’s favorite person? Steve’s best friend?

“Steve’s person?” Nat offered, her eyes full of patient sympathy.

“Yeah,” Tony said. That said it better than anything he was going to come up with. “I just… he told me he would have let Bucky kill him even though that meant, you know, _dying_.” The _and_ _leaving me_ part went unspoken between them. “And I get why. I really do. I couldn’t kill Rhodey to save my life. But I just…” Tony sighed and shoved a hand through his hair in frustration. “I don’t even know. It still hurts, I guess?”

“Of course it does,” Natasha said, an edge of fierceness in her voice that he wasn’t expecting. “When you love someone you fight to be with them. You deserve someone who fights to be with you. And it’s allowed to hurt knowing you didn’t have that — however brief of a lapse there was.”

“Yeah.” It was nice hearing someone else confirm that. “Thanks, Nat,” Tony said with a small smile.

“If you want me to knock some sense into Rogers, you just let me know,” Nat said easily, as if he’d said anything to warrant that. He tried to ignore exactly how loved that made him feel. Only Natasha could make a threat sound like a declaration of unyielding loyalty.

“How about I get back to you at the end of the day?” Tony said, chucking a little and rolling his eyes. “But seriously, I’m good for now. I appreciate that offer, though.”

Nat hummed speculatively and then abruptly hopped off the couch. Tony would never understand how someone could be so lethal and so graceful simultaneously and constantly.

“Breakfast?” Nat asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Sure.” Before Nat could ask what he wanted, he cut her off. “Surprise me.”

Twenty minutes later, she did with his favorite: french toast dusted with powdered sugar, a side of hash browns, and a cinnamon pumpkin muffin from a batch that had clearly been baking well before Nat asked him what he wanted for breakfast.

* * *

It was close to noon before Tony heard anything from his MIA boyfriend, and he’d be lying if he said wasn’t edging past annoyed and into the territory of truly upset. Naturally, that was when his phone buzzed. 

Tony held his breath, hoping for the repeated buzz that meant Steve was _calling._ When his phone remained motionless on the workbench, Tony resigned himself to texting. He tried to give Steve the benefit of the doubt. Maybe they were somewhere with spotty service or an unsecured connection. 

Steve: _Happy birthday!!! I hope you’ve had a great morning or that you’ve enjoyed sleeping in if your day is just beginning. Your present is in our room, and I’d like to see you open it if/when you have the time. Let me know :)._

Steve had gotten him a present. That was definitely a step in the right direction. More importantly, Steve had gotten him a present _and_ wanted to watch him open it. He was going to see Steve, and even if it was just a video call that was still light years better than _not_ seeing Steve. 

Tony had typed out his reply, smiling, before he even realized he was doing it.

Tony: _Does now work for you?_

The dots popped up signaling Steve was replying almost instantly, and Tony made a beeline for the workshop exit. Tony was curious, and he wasn’t particularly patient. Steve knew that, and Tony suspected he’d waited to text until he had some free time. 

He was at the top of the stairs when he saw Steve’s reply.

Steve: _Sure, just need a minute or two._

Tony could wait a couple minutes; he wasn’t _that_ impatient. But he definitely wanted to see this mystery gift that was hiding in their room. He hadn’t seen anything out of place when he went in to get his clothes this morning, which meant the present was either small and well-hidden or Steve had employed another Avenger to put it there after Tony was safely in the lab. Time to find out which.

Tony barely had the door open when he froze.

Steve was standing four feet in front of him. 

“Hey, sweetheart,” Steve said, smiling easily as if he hadn’t been somewhere in Eastern Europe for the past five weeks. “Happy Birthday. I’ve missed you.”

Tony stumbled forward, tripping over his feet and nearly landing on his face in his shock. Luckily, Steve was there to catch him. In the span of a single heartbeat, Tony found himself gathered up in one of Steve’s amazing hugs.

“What are you doing here?” Tony asked a second later, his face still pressed into Steve’s neck. He breathed in Steve’s scent, trying to convince himself that Steve was actually here with him. 

“Where else would I be?” Steve answered like it was actually that simple. He pulled back a little to look Tony in the eye. “I couldn’t miss my best guy’s birthday.”

_Oh,_ Tony thought, melting more than a little at Steve’s words. 

He kissed Steve once, much too quickly. It wasn’t nearly enough, but he was feeling too much. He burrowed back into Steve’s neck.

“I’ve missed you so much,” Tony said, his voice betraying the same emotions that had his eyes stinging with tears. He didn’t even care.

“Me too, Tony,” Steve whispered and squeezed Tony tighter. He sounded just as wrecked as Tony. Wasn’t that something? 

Tony thought Steve had been fine. 

He had no idea how long they spent with their arms locked around each other, and Tony suspected Steve didn’t have a clue either. 

In the end, what finally motivated Tony to move was his realization that he hadn’t actually _seen_ Steve in weeks. They hadn’t had a strong enough connection to support a video chat since Steve and Sam left Germany three weeks earlier. WiFi was spotty in the little towns in the various Eastern European countries Tony, Steve, and Sam had tracked Bucky through.

Tony pulled back and carefully put his hands on either side of Steve’s face, keeping him steady so Tony could look him over. Steve’s hair was longer than Tony was used to seeing it. Steve rarely let himself go more than three weeks between trims, but clearly that had slipped his mind ever since the Triskelion disaster. Otherwise, Steve seemed completely unharmed. There wasn’t a single scratch, scab, or bruise on his devastatingly perfect face. Tony smiled up at him stupidly. 

“Hi,” Steve said. God, Tony was _ridiculously_ in love with a total dork.

“Hi,” Tony said, already tugging Steve down to him. “Kiss me. Please.”

Steve hummed happily against his lips. That was a good enough reply for Tony.

* * *

“Best. Birthday present. Ever.”

Steve laughed brightly and pressed a gentle kiss to Tony’s temple. They were both sweaty and still a little breathless. Tony was thrilled.

“You still haven’t actually opened your real presents, you know,” Steve said a moment later.

Tony blinked at Steve in complete confusion.

“I wasn’t kidding about wanting to see you open your presents,” Steve said. “I got you something, of course. Right there.” He tipped his chin toward the nightstand on Tony’s side. Tony looked over at the wrapped presents resting there. One was a thin, flat rectangle, the other a small, square box with a bow on it.

Tony turned back to Steve eyebrows raised in question.

“You’re a very hard man to get presents for,” Steve admitted, looking a little sheepish. “You can buy or invent pretty much everything you’ll ever need. So I had to get creative. If I missed the mark, I’ll make a note of it so I can do better next year.”

“You didn’t…” Tony took a deep breath. “You didn’t have to get me anything.”

“Please tell me you’re joking?” Steve scoffed. “I’m _always_ going to get you a birthday present if it’s at all within my power to do so.”

“But, like you said, I don’t really need anything and you’re _here_ , which is more than enough — ”

“Tony birthday presents don’t have to be anything crazy, and they don’t necessarily have to be anything you _need_ per se. Gifts are just another way of showing someone what they mean to you. And I’m sorry, but I’m definitely _not_ counting my presence as a gift.”

“I don’t know,” Tony mused. “It means a lot to me that you’re here. I think it counts.”

“Well you can count it as a part of your gift, if you must. But I’m not sure it can reasonably count as a gift to you if I’m enjoying it just as much.”

“Mmm, you’re a lot more of a smooth talker than you lead people to believe,” Tony said, with his eyes narrowed and a smirk on his face.

“Just being honest,” Steve said with an innocent shrug. He shifted, propping himself up on one elbow so he was smiling down at Tony. “Now, come on. Open.”

Tony reached over and grabbed the presents. He was strangely nervous. It was clear Steve had put a lot of thought into whatever he’d wrapped up in this blue and silver birthday paper, and Tony was just worried his reaction wouldn’t be… genuine. He wasn’t used to getting presents. People didn’t really try to get him things. 

Jarvis had always been good at getting him things when he was younger, but that was before Tony really knew what he even wanted so everything new and scientific was exciting. Rhodey always opted not to get him anything and instead spent the day doing whatever Tony wanted whether that was a night of wild partying or a day binge-watching Star Wars movies.

Pepper’s presents had always been thoughtful — like the time she’d put his original arc reactor into the glass case and wrapped it up for him. But when they’d finally gotten together, even she’d had a hard time figuring out what to get him. She’d been successful more often than not, of course, but she was _Pepper._

Tony just… didn’t think he was the type of person who was good at being given gifts. 

Granted, this wasn’t the first time Steve had done something thoughtful for him. Steve was always leaving him notes, bringing him his favorite snacks, or surprising him with little trips to his favorite places. A couple times, Steve had even sent Tony flowers. That had been a first. And Tony loved all of it. It made him feel special and cared for. 

Huh. Okay, so maybe that’s what Steve meant.

“Come on, open it,” Steve urged. “It’s fine if you don’t like it. I won’t be offended or anything. No pressure.”

Tony sighed. Apparently, Steve’s absence had in no way deteriorated his ability to read Tony like a book. 

“Which one should I start with?”

“The bigger one,” Steve said.

Tony didn’t stall any longer. He went straight for the seam, ripping the paper without prejudice. Once he’d removed the first piece, he pulled the rest of the paper off in one easy motion to reveal a spiral bound notebook. It had a sturdy, expensive-feeling leather front and back cover. The front was embossed to read “ _Property of Tony Stark_ ” in what Tony recognized as Iron Man red and gold, and “ _(Intellectual)_ ” was centered and embossed just above the longer phrase, playfully. Tony couldn’t help chuckling at that as he ran his fingers over the texture of the words.

“This is beautiful, Steve,” Tony said, turning toward him. “And accurate because — ”

“Yes, I know. Whatever you end up writing in there will be intellectual property. I learned that one long before we even got together.”

Tony grinned widely. “I’ve taught you well.”

“Yes,” Steve smiled back. “I know you generally work on all your smart screens and fancy projected holograms. But I also know that sometimes when you’re working on something particularly complicated, you like to go back to basics. It seemed like you needed a proper notebook for those moments rather than your standard receipt backs and scraps of cardboard.”

Tony flipped it open to a random page in the middle of the book.

“I hope the pages are heavy enough for what you’ll need them for. They’re half grid paper and half blank. Thought that might help with math and all your design work.”

“It will,” Tony said. He was still a little shocked. 

He couldn’t remember the last time someone had given him something that was both thoughtful and also specifically designed to make it easier for him to do his work. Not that he blamed anyone — if he was busy working, it generally meant he was busy ignoring whoever would have been giving him such a present. 

He flipped through the book absently. Each two-page spread had one blank page and one grid page. He could do the calculations on one side and sketch out a potential design on the other. “Did you custom order this?” he asked, stupidly. “I mean, I know the cover is customized. But the actual notebook pages?”

“Oh. Yeah,” Steve said. “I know it isn’t much or anything, and it’s a little silly, but I thought— ”

Tony cut Steve off with a kiss, effectively silencing whatever he was going to say to downplay the sheer _awesomeness_ of his present.

“It’s perfect,” Tony said a minute later. “Seriously. I’m not bullshitting you. I love it.”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” Steve said, but he was smiling. “There’s another present there, and it’s even more boring than the first one.”

“It’s not _boring_ ,” Tony said, feeling strangely defensive of his present as he put it back on the night table safely. “It’s…” _Something I can use. Something I needed that I didn’t even realize I needed and never would have thought to get myself._ “It’s— it’s mine, so just leave it alone.”

Steve laughed a little, but Tony could tell he was pleased. “Okay,” Steve said. “Oh, and when you fill that one up, just let me know. I can get you another one just like it. So you don’t have to worry about using it, you know?”

Yeah, Tony knew. It was the exact reason he’d found a way to easily mass-produce Steve’s reinforced pencils — so he’d use them without worrying about running out of them.

“That’s… thank you.”

“Any time,” Steve said. “Now go ahead with the other one.”

“Okay…” Tony said ripping into the paper before the anxiety about receiving gifts could return. He confirmed his first suspicion about the small square: it was some kind of jewelry box. Naturally, he was intrigued. He raised an eyebrow at Steve questioningly. 

“I know, I know,” Steve said, blushing a little. “It’s exactly as cheesy as you think. But humor me.”

Tony flipped the box open and… had no idea what to say. Steve shifted, a little embarrassed, but smiled at Tony softly. 

“You don’t have to wear them or anything, but I’ve seen too many movies with military romances not to give them to you.”

Tony looked from the dog tags to Steve. “Don’t you… I don’t know, kind of need these?”

“I’m pretty sure if anything happens to me in the field I won’t be that hard to identify. They issued me new ones because when I was first defrosted mine were missing for a while. Someone from SHIELD found the originals and gave them to me a few days before the Battle of New York. I suspect Coulson had a hand in that,” Steve said with an easy shrug. 

“I didn’t really need the originals, so I definitely didn’t need the replacements. I keep them with my dress uniform in the closet,” Steve continued, glancing from the closet back to Tony. “But when I found these in the trunk with my old army stuff, I thought of you.” He smiled at Tony. “Like I said, you don’t have to wear them. But it’d mean a lot to me if you’d keep them safe for me.”

“Are you kidding me?” Tony asked, affronted. He tugged the dog tags proudly over his head, letting them fall against his chest. The metal was cool against his skin. “Of course I’m wearing them.”

Steve smiled, obviously pleased. 

“How do I look?” Tony asked, smirking playfully.

“Perfect,” Steve said softly. He had that expression Tony recognized but could never really put a name to. “I love you,” Steve said. “I don’t understand why you’re with me, but I’m so grateful that you are.”

“Right back at you, honey,” Tony said, half-joking and half serious. “Now what do you say we make use of the fact that these tags are the only thing I’m wearing?”

“God, you’re dangerous,” Steve said leaning in to kiss Tony thoroughly. 

It was perfect for about twenty seconds before Steve pulled back with a groan. 

“Fuck,” he said, clearly frustrated, but smiling. “We don’t have time for this.”

“What?” Tony asked, confused and more than a little dismayed. “Where do we have to be?”

“It’s a surprise,” Steve said, pressing one last kiss to Tony’s lips before moving to get out of bed. “Come on, we’ve got to get dressed.”

“Steeeeeve,” Tony whined. “What would you do if I refused to get out of bed?” 

“A lot of things,” Steve said, smiling. “And I would make sure you had a great time because it’s your birthday and you deserve it. But, I will say I think you’ll enjoy the sex-free surprise if you’re up for just… temporarily delaying additional sex.” He eyed Tony suggestively. 

“Just a temporary delay?” Tony asked, a glint in his eye. “Promise?”

“I’ve got nowhere else to be.”

Tony knew it wasn’t strictly true. But maybe… maybe it was for tonight. And that was enough, he thought.

“Alright,” Tony sighed. “What do I need to wear for this surprise?”

“Whatever your heart desires,” Steve said. “As long as it’s some type of clothing,” he finished quickly, already taking note of Tony’s playful expression. 

“Spoilsport,” Tony said with a sigh. 

* * *

It was nearly three by the time Steve and Tony both piled into the car Happy had waiting for them just outside the tower.

“Okay, really, where are we going?” Tony said even as he leaned into Steve’s side, perfectly content to follow him anywhere for as long as he stayed put. 

“It’s a surprise, Tony,” Steve said, his tone endlessly fond. “What would be the point if I told you now, ten minutes before?”

“It’s close, then?”

“Yes.”

“Is it — ”

“Tony,” Steve said his name in that exasperated way Tony hadn’t realized he missed so much until he heard it again. 

Tony grinned at Steve a little. Steve shook his head, smiling right back. 

“You’re ridiculous,” Steve said.

“Yeah,” Tony agreed. “But you love it.” 

They’d come a long way, given the certainty with which Tony could make that assertion.

Steve looked thrilled.

“Of course I do,” he said. “I love you.”

Before Tony could come up with any kind of a response to that — there was really only one response, but still — Steve caught his lips in a kiss. 

It quickly grew a little more heated than what Steve would normally allow during car ride with Happy in the front seat just behind a rarely-needed divider, which was why Tony suspected Steve had ulterior motives. And yet, he wasn't complaining. Nope, not even close.

The car stopping was what finally brought Tony back to the present.

Steve was smug.

“That was _not_ fair,” Tony said, wishing he weren’t breathless so that his complaint would have a little more bite to it.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“You’re a rotten liar.”

Steve laughed outright and _god_ Tony had missed that too. 

“Come on,” Steve said, starting to slide toward the door. They’d both drifted toward the center of the backseat during the ride.

For the first time in a few minutes, Tony focused on the world outside their vehicle. His eyes went wide and round. 

“Steve, I don’t think I’m exactly dressed for this.”

The car was idling in front of an Italian restaurant that had opened up a little over a year ago in downtown Manhattan. Tony knew for a fact the wait list was obscene and the prices were just as bad because he and Steve had been there once on date night. The food had been excellent, and yes, Tony happened to have a special appreciation for Italian food, but it was an _upscale_ place.

And he was in a t-shirt and jeans. Hell, they _both_ were because Steve had insisted that was plenty fine enough for his surprise, which was _nothing crazy, Tony._

“Don’t be silly, you look great,” Steve said without a care in the world.

“Steve, quite honestly if we try to go in there looking like this the _only_ reason they won’t throw us out is that we saved the planet a few months back. It’s going to be horribly uncomfortable for everyone involved.”

Steve rolled his eyes.

“It’s like you don’t trust me at all,” he teased. “Just come on.”

Tony eyed him skeptically for another few seconds before starting to get out of the car.

“I made sure the evening would be paparazzi-free, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Steve said, guiding Tony toward the entrance with a warm, gentle hand at the small of his back.

“At this point, I’m more worried about the average patron with a cell phone thinking we’ve completely lost our minds.”

“Well lucky for you, I’ve taken care of the threat of ‘other patrons’ as well,” Steve said, pulling the door open for Tony before he could really try to puzzle through what that meant. 

When Tony stepped into the restaurant, he realized what Steve was getting at. There was no one else here.

“You _bought out_ the restaurant?” Tony asked, incredulous. “What happened to ‘nothing crazy?’” 

“Oh please,” Steve smiled. “This hardly makes this list of craziest things we’ve ever done for each other.”

“I don’t know, Rogers. Buying out an entire restaurant so I could eat a fancy Italian meal without putting on a suit? That’s a little extreme, even for us.”

“It’s your birthday,” Steve said, pulling Tony toward the back of the place. He guessed they were heading toward the private party rooms because he still had yet to see a single employee in this place. 

“And you say _I’m_ the ridiculous one,” Tony muttered, letting himself be towed along without protest.

Steve paused before the door and shrugged.

“I didn’t say you were the _only_ ridiculous one.” 

Tony laughed a little.

Steve pushed open the door and stepped back so Tony would have room to enter. 

Tony wasn’t sure what he’d expected, but the first thing he noticed — an Iron Man-themed ‘Happy Birthday’ banner taped to the wall of a restaurant where some entrees cost more than $60 — was definitely _not_ it. 

“Sorry,” Natasha cut in from beside the entry. “I told Steve this would happen if we left Clint in charge of the decorations.”

“Which is exactly why I was left in charge of decorations,” Clint piped up. “They’re _awesome._ ”

“They’re a little self-indulgent,” Bruce said smiling sheepishly by the table. “But we couldn’t really tell him no. He was practically vibrating with excitement in the store.”

“They have _Avengers streamers_ ,” Clint said as if this was a revolutionary discovery. Judging by the way Clint had chosen to completely cover the room in said Avengers streamers, maybe he thought it _was._ “If we don’t get to celebrate the original Avenger’s birthday with Avengers-themed merchandise, who does?”

“Hold on just a minute here,” Tony said, perturbed. “I am _not_ the original Avenger. That would be Steve. He has at least seventy years on me in that department.”

“Details,” Clint said, waving his hand dismissively.

“Important details!” Tony’s voice was dangerously close to an indignant squawk. “I’m only turning 45! He was born in 1918. There’s no contest there.” 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” Steve said, but he was smiling widely and was clearly unconcerned about the age dispute. 

That was when Tony noticed Pepper and Rhodey. Or rather, when Pepper decided she’d had enough of the playful argument and stepped forward to make herself known. 

“Happy birthday, Tony!” she said, reaching forward to hug him without much warning. Tony reciprocated easily and Rhodey quickly joined in, turning the affair into a group hug. Tony suspected they knew how much he secretly loved those.

“Thanks!” Tony said, his voice muffled from within the hug. When they stepped back Tony looked around the room at his friends. “I didn’t think I’d be seeing most of you today,” he admitted, sounding somewhat uncomfortable. “Weren’t you all busy?” He knew Pepper had been in Malibu, Rhodey had been somewhere important doing military things, Clint had been on a SHIELD mission, and Bruce had been assisting on a research project too dangerous for normal humans somewhere near Seattle. “You didn’t have to come all this way.”

“Not too busy for your birthday, Boss,” Happy said, having just walked in from parking the car. 

“And yes, we did,” Clint said smirking mischievously. “Cap’s orders were perfectly clear.”

Tony’s eyebrows shot up and he rounded on Steve, who was blushing furiously in a way Tony could rarely, if ever, elicit anymore. He was both _gorgeous_ and unfairly adorable when he was embarrassed. 

“Why thank you, Clint,” Steve choked out, before finally sighing. “But it wasn’t so much an order as a… strong suggestion.”

“And don’t forget, you pulled about a dozen strings to get me time off. Probably even more for Colonel Rhodes, here,” Clint continued, apparently determined to embarrass Steve as much as possible. 

Tony slid his hand into Steve’s and squeezed, trying to convey his appreciation in the simple gesture without making it obvious how much he was also enjoying everyone teasing him. 

“Why don’t we all sit down and eat?” Steve suggested, his cheeks still flaming with a fierce blush. “Instead of continuing this fascinating line of conversation.”

Clint clapped Steve on the shoulder and laughed, but he still walked over to the table and plopped down unceremoniously. 

Tony still hadn’t seen any restaurant employees, but the minute they sat down two impeccably dressed waiters appeared with platters of food to share, family-style.

* * *

The meal was excellent. Expensive dishes and even more expensive wines were easily shared around the table of eight. They weren’t rushed at all, and by the time the group had gotten around to fishing off the vast array of desserts the restaurant provided, it was already close to eight.

They’d been busy eating, laughing, and catching up. Steve wasn’t the only one who’d been busy the past few weeks, and Tony wasn’t ashamed to say that having nearly everyone he cared about together again was exactly what he needed. 

Even when everyone parted ways after — Rhodey to Ft. Worth, Pepper and Happy back to Malibu, Clint and Natasha both heading off on some classified SHIELD mission, and Bruce back to his research project — Tony was still perfectly content. 

They were all safe, and they’d come all this way just to celebrate his birthday. He felt warm inside in a way that was disconcertingly unfamiliar, but he suspected it was what other people felt like after a pleasant family gathering. 

Steve drove them back to the Tower, holding Tony’s hand on the center console the whole way.

“Thank you for that,” Tony said when Steve finally put the car in park. “I… that was perfect.”

Steve smiled a little. 

“I thought about having it here,” Steve admitted. “But I thought it would be hard to surprise you that way. Not to mention I’d have to spend time afterward cleaning up, and I figured we’d be able to find… better ways to spend that time,” Steve smirked.

“Good call,” Tony said, running the fingers of his free hand up Steve’s arm. “Great call. In fact, I think I was promised that our prior delay was temporary.”

“You absolutely were,” Steve said, nodding seriously. “I’ve got no other plans for the night. I’m all yours, sweetheart.”

Tony lit up, his grin equal parts wicked and delighted.

“That’s _exactly_ what I wanted to hear,” Tony said, pulling Steve’s mouth to his own. 

* * *

 They made their way upstairs from the parking garage, however long it took. They even managed to make it to bed. If they were a little more care-free about privacy than usual, well… everyone they normally lived with was gone for the night anyway. 

Who could blame them, really?

* * *

When Tony woke up in the morning, he wasn’t expecting JARVIS to be the first thing he heard.

“Captain Rogers requested I inform you that he left a note as soon as you were awake,” JARVIS said, no small hint of teasing in his tone. “I believe he was endeavoring to prevent you from jumping to conclusions about his not being in bed this morning.”

“Thanks,” Tony said, deadpan, with a roll of his eyes. He rolled over to find that Steve did, in fact, leave a note as promised. “Thanks, J,” he said again, more seriously.

“Any time, sir.” 

Tony grabbed the note that was folded like a card and flipped it open. The first thing he saw was a rough but not incomplete sketch of someone he could only infer was himself, sleeping peacefully. Tony always found it hard to believe Steve’s sketches of him because he was fairly certain he’d _never_ looked the way Steve drew him. But Steve insisted it was how he saw him. So. There was that.

Below the half-page drawing, there was a note scrawled in Steve’s particular brand of cursive-print hybrid handwriting that Tony loved so much. 

_Morning sweetheart,_

_I thought this might be an opportunity to tell you how beautiful you looked when I woke up this morning without you rolling your eyes at me._ — Tony rolled his eyes — _Or at least without me having to_ see _you roll your eyes at me. So I took it._

_I also thought I’d fix us breakfast. I’ll be back in a bit. I love you._

_— Steve_

Tony couldn’t help grinning widely at the note. He’d missed lots of things with Steve being gone, but he hadn’t realized how much he missed little things — like waking up to notes from Steve every now and then — until they were suddenly back in his life.

“When did he get up, J?”

“Thirty-seven minutes ago, sir.”

Not much longer then. Tony rolled back over, his back to Steve’s empty side of the bed, taking Steve’s note with him. It was going right into his bedside table drawer with all the other notes he’d collected in the eleven months of their relationship. 

He pulled the drawer open and carefully placed the note on the pile, shifting up onto one elbow to ensure it was in just the right place. He pushed the drawer closed, grabbed the dog tags off the table, and slipped them over his head. 

The metal was cool against his skin and still a bit of an unfamiliar weight, but he knew in no time at all it’d be like they’d always been there. 

His other present caught his eye from its spot on the night table. Tony grabbed the notebook and flipped through the first few pages again.

He still couldn’t really get over the fact that Steve had done something like this for him. It was just so thoughtful. So… Steve. Maybe Tony should have expected it. 

He closed the notebook again, ran his hands across the lettering on the front cover, and realized he’d missed a detail on the back cover. It was simple, but there was another embossed section centered near the bottom of the back cover, an image this time. It was a simplified drawing of the Iron Man helmet and faceplate. Tony wasn’t sure how he knew it, but he was certain Steve himself had drawn it. Tony smiled. 

He flipped the back cover open and paused when two folded pages slipped out of the notebook. _Damn. Sneaky asshole,_ Tony thought, as he grabbed the pages curiously. 

It was a surprisingly long note, and just skimming the opening made Tony’s heart race. 

 

_Dear Tony,_

_Ever since our conversation about what happened in D.C. I’ve felt like we left some things unsaid. Or rather, I felt like you left some questions — important questions — unasked and, even worse, I left them unanswered. I don’t want to let that stand, and I thought a letter would be the best way for me to say what I need to say without my words getting endlessly tangled and confused. So here goes._

_When we talked, I told you that if Bucky wanted me dead I’d be dead because I wasn’t trying to stop him. That was true about what happened on the helicarrier at the end. But you asked me if I was just going to let him kill me, and I never gave you an answer. That was unfairly cruel of me, and I’m sorry for that. I realize now that you’ve probably been worried for weeks that whenever Sam and I finally get close to Bucky again, you might find yourself in the same position you were in after D.C. Trying to be okay with him nearly killing me._

_I don’t ever want to put you in that position again. So, to finally answer your question, no. I wasn’t going to let him kill me. Not if there were any other options. I wouldn’t have done it then, and I won’t do it now. I would never do that to you._

_In the helicarrier, I was completely out of options. I was already hurt, badly. We were crashing into the river. Buck — he’d gotten trapped under this giant beam and I knew he’d die if I left him there, which meant I had to move it. Once he was free… There wasn’t anywhere I could have run to or really anything I could think to do other than count on the fact that Bucky would recognize me. And he did, thankfully. But you should know that that was always going to be my last resort. And even when I was using that strategy as my last resort, it was still my best attempt at coming home to you._

_Sweetheart, every time I go out in the field my only goal is getting through whatever bullshit I’m dealing with that day so that I can come home to you. So, no. I would never just let someone kill me. I’m always going to fight to get back to you._

_Bucky is important to me. He’s my family too. I couldn’t kill him, and I couldn’t let him die. I would fight almost anything and anyone to come home to you, Tony. But that fight... winning wouldn’t have actually meant_ winning _. You make me the best version of myself. And I’d only ever want you to be with me when I’m at my best. If I’d killed Bucky... I would have been far from my best. I hope you can understand that. And I hope you know that doesn’t have any bearing on how much I love you._

_When I woke up in 2012, I had no one. Nothing. You gave me a purpose, somewhere to belong. You gave me a home. You, the other Avengers — our little family and this life we’re building for ourselves? No one — not even Bucky — is going to get me to give that up without a fight. It means everything to me._ You _mean everything to me._

_So just in case you’ve been too afraid to ask me why you weren’t enough to convince me to fight, please know that you are. You’re so much more than enough for me. You always have been, ever since the start of our friendship._

_I’ve been through a lot and lost a lot. But I wouldn’t change anything. I wouldn’t change any of it, sweetheart. It’s what got me here to you, and I don’t ever want to be anywhere else._

_I love you this huge, unbelievable amount. I’m so lucky to call you the love of my life._

_All my love,_

_Steve_

 

It was only when Tony finished reading the letter that he realized he was crying. 

“Damn it, Steve,” Tony said, aggressively wiping tears off his cheeks and trying to get it together. 

“Hey, what did I do?” Steve asked, walking into the room with a cup of coffee. He was smiling and teasing until he realized Tony was crying. 

“Woah,” Steve said, quickly abandoning the coffee on Tony’s night table and sitting next to him on the bed. “Hey, what’s wrong?”

“I think you know,” Tony said, waving the pages covered in Steve’s handwriting in front of him.

“Oh.” Steve flushed a little and ducked his head guiltily. “I wasn’t... expecting you to find that now.”

“I did.”

“I’m sorry,” Steve said, looking Tony over carefully. “I wasn’t trying to upset you, I just —”

“Stop,” Tony said, his voice rough. “Just stop,” and he yanked Steve into a crushing hug. Well, as close to crushing as Tony could manage considering Steve was a super soldier and Tony was just a regular person. 

Steve hugged back, of course, but Tony could feel his confusion in the tentativeness of his embrace. 

“Thank you,” Tony said, a little embarrassed at the way his voice broke mid-phrase. He pressed his face into Steve’s neck and breathed in deeply for a minute to collect himself before sighing and settling his chin on Steve’s shoulder.“I… I didn’t know how much I needed you to say that. So thank you. I love you. So much.”

Steve relaxed slightly and held Tony closer. 

“I love you too, sweetheart,” Steve said, as genuine as ever. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you any of that sooner. I had trouble finding the right words.”

“Well. Seems like you managed.”

Steve chuckled a little, and Tony silently thanked the universe for this man in his arms. He loved him. So much. 

“I brought you coffee,” Steve said, his voice soft. "And made you breakfast."

“And here I was, worried you might have forgotten your training after all this time away,” Tony said, grinning stupidly at his own joke. 

Steve laughed, and _damn_ that really was one of Tony’s favorite sounds. It was so good to have him home. 

Tony knew Steve would have to leave again, soon, but this morning he’d brought Tony coffee. 

And when Steve did leave, he’d come home to Tony. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So... *hides behind computer screen* what do you think? Did I do them justice? I'll admit, I wasn't in love with the very last line, but it also felt right. 
> 
> What was your favorite part of the chapter? Or even the fic in general? I'd love to know. I have my favorite parts, but I'm never sure what's resonating the most with people.
> 
> Also... I have a few more chapters/partial chapters in this universe drafted. They'd be part of another fic, if I ever posted them... but still in this same world and timeline. Would anyone be interested? It might involve a few of our favs... Peter Parker or more Pepper Potts for example? There also might be a proposal. Potentially a wedding? If that's something you might be interested in, please let me know :). And definitely subscribe to this story and me as an author. 
> 
> Thanks so very much for reading. I seriously love you all so much. 
> 
> P.S. Also major kudos to you if you caught the line from the comics that I slipped into this chapter ;). You're a true Stony superfan.


	20. Sequel/Series Announcement

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> For anyone who might be interested, I thought I would share that I've decided to continue some storylines in this verse in a series called the "Together" series. If you're interested in following along, please feel free to subscribe :).

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've included a bit of a preview of the next fic (where Bucky returns!), but you can also read it by going directly to the next fic in the Together series.

Tony had already sunk several hours into designing a miniature version of the helicarriers he’d created for Fury — this time they would be strictly for Avengers use  _only_  — by the time his Sunday afternoon was rudely interrupted.

For a moment, he ignored the angry screeches of the security system. He figured if it was a less-than-critical warning, JARVIS would handle it given a minute or two.

A few seconds after the alarms started to sound, Tony relented. His concentration was already broken thanks to the incessant blaring of two of the tower security alarms anyway.

“JARVIS, catch me up,” Tony demanded. He moved to the nearest computer and pulled up the feed of every security camera on the levels of the tower with Avengers-only access.

****“The tower’s secure perimeter has been breached. A number of your security alarms have been tripped by an external threat. There is an unauthorized individual on the balcony.”

Tony paused momentarily because that  _shouldn’t be possible_  and there were a dozen redundancies and security measures to ensure that it could never happen. But he pulled up the balcony camera feed anyway. He stared at it, brow furrowed.

“There’s no one there, J.”

“I believe the visual feed has been tampered with.”

So this someone had the ability to mess with his security system. That wasn’t promising.

“For fuck’s sake.” Tony stood up and went for the suit. “I didn’t think it would be too much to ask for a quiet Sunday, but it looks like I was mistaken.” Tony rolled his eyes, despite there being no one around to appreciate his frustration or sassy commentary. “Is this going to be an all-hands-on-deck Avengers-type situation? Or is this something I can take care of on my own?”

JARVIS hesitated. That was never a good sign. Tony stood in a clear area and called the suit to him. The pieces began assembling around him as JARVIS responded.

“I’m inclined to believe you could hold your own against a single individual, sir, but I have no way of knowing whether this particular adversary is human, alien, or enhanced in some way.”

“Right.” Tony sighed. “Excellent.”

The final pieces of the suit slotted into place, and Tony flew to the back Iron Man exit he installed in the workshop a month after moving into the tower.

It only took him a few seconds to fly high enough to get a clear aerial view of the balcony.

“You’ve got to be shitting me.” Tony couldn’t believe it. “Is that who I think it is, JARVIS?”

“All compiled intelligence would suggest that is one James Buchanan Barnes, most commonly referred to in this century as the Winter Soldier.”

Okay. So Tony needed a new approach.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Click next in the series to read more! I've posted two chapters already :).
> 
> I love you all! I hope you enjoyed this story, and if you decide to continue reading, I hope you enjoy the stories to come just as much <3\. If we don't cross paths again, thank you so much for reading. It meant the world to me <3.


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